


Wax & Wane

by Max Rasgar (Tear_U_Apart)



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: Angst, Bering & Wells Feels, Canon Compliant, Drama & Romance, F/F, Humor, Mind The Rating | Chapter 9 Borders On Explict, Originally Written Circa 2014, Post Season 4, Season 5 Trainwreck/Dumpster Fire Combo Didn't Happen, Snagging & Bagging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 20:41:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 46,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30145308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tear_U_Apart/pseuds/Max%20Rasgar
Summary: On one side, HG Wells is writing again but this time it's not what came to be known as 'science fiction'. This time she's chronicling her past life and her future life.  While on the other side, Myka Bering is quietly trying to pick up the pieces and hold herself together after getting knocked down by the hit she didn't see coming.
Relationships: Myka Bering/Helena "H. G." Wells
Comments: 8
Kudos: 5





	1. (~Phase One: New Moon~)

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the characters that appear in this story. There is no money in this for me either. So there's no need to get your knickers all twisted over a whole bunch of nothing.
> 
> A/N (The 2021 Edition): I'm still not sure about posting this story on this site but here it is. Unless I change my mind and delete it which would be no tragedy. This story has been on FF.net since 2014 which feels like another lifetime ago. Over the last month and a half I've made some improvements. Now this story is as good as it's ever going to be, considering who wrote it. Everything has been re-edited and rewritten from First Person to mostly Third Person (except where it would make no damn sense and really only an asshat would refer to themself in third person) seeing as more readers prefer that method of delivery. So without further adieu, for those of you reading this for the first time enjoy yourself or not?

**[Helena]**

* * *

_**London, 2010...** _

Meeting at gunpoint; the thrill of it all, which was quite enchanting for me while simultaneously being novel. Memorable is a gross understatement. Though I suspect the added excitement to the situation was because it accompanied some of my very first breaths of freedom in more than a hundred years. And then she rounded the corner; Myka, and I was rendered powerless from letting my eyes appraise the commanding woman advancing towards me. Was she ever my type. Had she been born in my time not even the Queen's command would have prevented me from pursuing her. From courting her until I was her first thought when she woke each morning to her last every night even if I shared the same bed.  
  
Perhaps it was the combination of the gun and seeing those intense green eyes engage with my own, as her feeble partner cowered under my steady hand. I knew in that moment I had chosen poorly. But I quickly changed my method and how I wanted the events to play out to my advantage and she played her part perfectly. Not surprisingly, I found that I rather enjoyed daydreaming how I would seduce her for my mad endeavor because I realize now how absolutely close to lunacy I was all over again. The less than sane manner of my thoughts in their chaotic order. The bitterness I clung to as the years passed slowly in my bronze tomb where deeply ingrained; carved into my soul as it were, and it was all I knew.

My most lucid of reasoning at any given time was that I felt I was entitled to my revenge. No matter the penalty or cost. Needless to say my awakening was not to as grand a vision as I had hoped. No modern utopia had arisen in my absence or even a poor facsimile that was on the verge of crumbling. I was rather disappointed at what I'd found. When I opened my eyes further and truly took in this time that I was brought into as though I were a fully grown babe I saw it as lacking at every turn. To my dismay, there was still a vast chasm of improvement needed in the world over that will likely never be bridged.

  
_**California, 2010...** _

Tracking Myka and the young girl, Claudia wasn't a challenge per se. I found the possibility of approaching Myka again to be as close to ideal as I would likely get. I had spent quite a few weeks trying to acclimate myself with this new time; learning the technology of this age, and I was pleased to find I'm well suited for computers. The internet is a wealth of knowledge at your fingertips, one simply just needs to know how to look. Though there are some things to which I hadn't been privy to beforehand that I wish I could unsee.

My best laid plans were all that I had left in this world and to get back in the good graces of the Warehouse it was going to take winning the favor of Secret Service Agent Myka Bering. Gathering information on her proved to be quite a good read, although it didn't provide me with any real substance that my charms would work on her. I didn't truly test the waters back in London during our first encounter aside from a stray touch when she cuffed me to a chair. Pete was an all too easy target but Myka will not be. I love a challenge though.

When I chose to present myself to Myka, once more I was taken aback, then even more so when she proceeded to choke me up against a wall. I knew I wasn't in any real danger; due to her morals, but a threat remains a threat and Myka is that and more. Especially after reading her file, I must say I was quite impressed by the multitude of languages she is fluent in, as well as the fencing, which I must say I find rather dashing and I imagine she would perform it with power and grace. All in all, I deemed her a worthy opponent with the potential for more when I was feeling generous and less mad than a deranged hatter.

I admit I was instantly smitten but I chose to ignore those impulses. During our first conversation when she was being rather cavalier in her actions about what I removed from the Escher vault, her words surprisingly stung and they were not supposed to. I was indignant and genuinely put off, thus I defended my actions and told her the unabridged truth which was not a part of my plan. The truth about my daughter. Speaking about her always hurts. The fact didn't escape me in such a pivotal moment that I quite quickly divulged this personal information to Myka, someone I didn't really know, aside from what I read on paper. 

I surprised myself by how vulnerable I was being and mostly because it was not a part of my act. I was speaking from a place of purity and Myka responded in kind. Then as if by kismet, I was forced to use my grappler to save her life and mine of course. At the exact moment I pulled Myka into my arms I thought how fortuitous that this would only serve to reinforce my good intentions and to make her blind to my true ones and indeed it did serve to further my cause. But then I began to flirt with her after the danger had passed, and to my extreme delight she responded, thus I knew success was within my grasp. I wish I could say that I was conflicted at the time but I wasn't. 

_**Moscow, 2010...** _

  
Myka continued to be rather adept and open to flirting with me. Of all the moments in the early stages of our...God, I don't even know what to call it. My favorite moment was when she flirted with me over slipping that tracking transmitter in her pocket. I adored that she did it right in front of Pete, the both of us oblivious to the world around for a few seconds. After the success of the Russian mission Myka vouched for me. As I stood outside Artie's office listening to her ranting and worrying over my yet to be determined status by the powers that be I couldn't help the profound satisfaction I felt went I heard Myka ask so brokenly if I had been bronzed again. At the time it meant I had succeeded in choosing the proper person to guarantee my re-entry into the Warehouse but now I know it was something more. I was becoming conflicted.

But as per my usual, I flirted with her more and any fool could recognize she was quickly becoming very smitten with me as a result. I could only smile back at Myka's painfully relieved smile that she sent my way upon discovering I had been re-instated as an Agent. The way she smiled mesmerized me as I stepped forward to thank her. I knew right then I had her exactly where I wanted her. An ally and strangely I felt something else, but I quickly dismissed it as a dormant longing for human contact reawakening after my debronzing. Being accosted by Artie did hurt somewhat but only in the means that I felt he saw right through my actions; as if I were transparent, and he saw me for what I was and what I was going to do. But seeing Myka run after him in an effort to get him to make amends for what she saw as an unfair slighting, a fear crept into me in that moment. One I hadn't felt in a long time.

  
** _Warehouse 13, 2010 (the usage of my time machine)..._ **

I actually settled into the routine of the Warehouse and for a time I put aside my plan. Then came the mission that called for the use of my time machine. I felt the hand of fate like no other that day. Had I not been bronzed I would never have met Myka, nor would I have been able to help her retrieve the glass knife artifact. By this time I had lost all semblance of reigning in my own affections for her. I quite boldly I caressed her hand as her mind was off in 1961 and I couldn't help but wonder if she could feel my touch. I had completely forgotten Claudia was even present, so I shifted my attention nervously to Pete. When Artie purged the system and rendered my machine useless, I was outright frightened I might actually lose Myka, so much so I almost couldn't comprehend a proper fix for a few seconds to shout at Claudia's retreating form. And then that sudden and familiar feeling I was growing accustomed to towards Myka, engulfed me once more, but with Arthur standing watch over me with a primed Tesla was I able to dismiss it again.

_**Egypt, 2010...** _

Some much needed centering and distancing finally allowed me to set my true purpose into motion, but still I knew hurting Myka was in turn going to leave a mark on a part of me now. However, all I had to do was take a look at the world that surrounded me now and the disappointment I felt brought all the old anger surging to the surface again. That sole emotion was what pushed me back to some unfathomable depth that resides just under my skin. I recall now with great frustration losing myself in one of the traps inside Warehouse Two; a mind trap that dangled my one true happiness in front of me, my long since passed daughter. When Myka freed me from that pleasant oasis I was angry all over again and it fueled me to do what I set out to accomplish and I did so with great relish. But looking back, the newly acquired chink in my armor persisted when I blatantly asked for Myka's forgiveness right before I shot her with my Tesla.

  
_ **Yellowstone, 2010...** _

I wanted to kill everything. But mostly I wanted to kill the festering madness inside me to find the peace I've longed for. So I drove that trident into the ground with all the fury in my body, hoping it would drown out Myka's desperate pleas and smother the turmoil threatening to drown me from the inside out. Myka was right though, I did want her to stop me at this point, more than I cared to admit even to myself. I was rather like a train; its course once set at full steam takes miles to slow and may even crash through a great many barriers before it comes to a grand destructive halt. Such was to be my trajectory minus being embraced by a fiery blaze disguised as purifying glory.

I knew I was well and truly conquered when she pressed that wretched gun into my hand and then demanded that I put a bullet between her eyes. My hands shook and my heart twisted in my chest at the thought of killing her, so with a scream akin to a losing battle cry I sunk to the ground, and shook from the emotions that finally overwhelmed me. I will always be haunted by those profound green eyes; how they tried and succeeded in revealing the truth of my buried goodness, which Myka was so certain still resided in my soul and she was half right. I imagined how disappointing it was for her that this was all that was left of the great HG Wells.

Also, I would be remiss to admit that I felt a sense of freedom in my surrender, even as I was marched out of the Warehouse in bonds that I could not easily escape from. Still it was like letting go, it was as if I had been hanging from the edge of a great precipice for so long my hands had melded to its stronghold, and the act of breaking free hurt but there was peace in the fall. Or so I told myself over and over in my white-walled cell awaiting punishment for my actions.

* * *

"These are very interesting and arresting thoughts, Ms. Wells." Dr. Mason intones while he closes the cover on my journal or what I would have called it in my time, a diary. "But I expected no less from someone of your intellectual caliber and writing experience. I do appreciate that you took my assignment to heart." 

Helena acknowledges him with a polite nod while crossing her legs and quietly considering the man before her. He is mid to late forties with a pleasant oblong face that is adorned with rather unremarkable features save for the grey making its presence known at his temples and throughout his light brown hair. His pale blue eyes are enhanced by a well-groomed close-cropped beard that draws the focus to his unique eyes. His bland wardrobe of pressed charcoal slacks, brogues and sweaters that unfortunately only enhances his slightly roly-poly midsection. Helena finds his oddly muddled British accent rather soothing. Helena only agreed to this therapy because if she's to truly function in society then this must be done. Helena grudgingly decided that she cannot hide any longer as Myka so ineloquently phrased it not too long ago during a very heated discussion.

"Ms. Wells?"

Helena is mildly startled out of her physical assessment of this man and briefly smiles at him, "Apologies, my mind wanders a fair amount lately." Helena does not fidget normally but it's as though there is no comfortable way to sit. So she uncrosses her legs while leaning back further in the cushions of the leather settee. "But to answer your observation, I feel its redundant to point out I merely did as requested and wrote the truth as it happened to the best of my memory, which there certainly is nothing remiss with it."

Dr. Mason sighs, "Ms. Wells, may I call you Helena?"

Helena nods her acceptance and he continues, "I knew you would be a challenging patient. One that I gleefully accepted for many reasons along with my respect for who you are, which is someone you are free to embrace now." Dr. Mason lightly places a hand upon the journal. Though his words were spoken with the utmost respect, it takes everything in Helena not to snatch the small leather-bound volume out of his hands at how trivial and unhinged I suddenly feel under his scrutiny. "So once again I do appreciate you completing and taking seriously for that matter, the task I asked of you after only a few sessions, along with the candor you employed within these pages."

Dr. Mason shifts in his chair and then lays the journal on the low table in front of him, "But now it’s time to open a dialogue about a long standing issue with you." Helena knows what's coming since she's made it so easy for this man to read her as though she were no more than an open book. "The person who is the predominate focus of your writings, Myka Bering."

Helena's first instinct is to be amused so she smirks at her accuser, "I'm of the mind that its quite plain and obvious what I once felt for her." Helena's words are terse but then what's the point of putting on airs any longer. "Not once did I act on them since it would have been improper, mostly due to the shame I feel on reflection of how poorly I have treated her." Helena's throat tightens and she fights the urge to look away from her shame. "Far too many times."  
  
Dr. Mason nods and then offers a fleeting grin in exchange, "Succinctly put Helena and accurate. But you used the past tense when describing your affections and we both know those feelings are as strong as ever. And yet another thing you are hiding from."

Helena clenches her jaw but then forces herself to relax. She will not lose her temper with this man even though he is deliberately trying to provoke. Helena is not so far gone not to recognize that is his job; to wage war with another human's emotions and to urge them to confront and then conquer their demons that have never been so easily laid to rest even on a good day.

Helena sighs and runs a hand through her hair, "I have a functioning adult relationship with a nice man..."

"A man you live with and to do so you promptly lied to in order to maintain said relationship." Dr. Mason interrupts which rankles Helena as intended no doubt. "Even though you had to, given your station, and yet you expect him to care for you, while ignoring the facts that he doesn't know who you really are." Dr. Mason shakes his head and leans back in his own seat. "A man that frankly can never appreciate the person who he ignorantly invited into his home. I suspect the trauma of losing his wife has impaired his judgment."

Helena balls her hands into fists on her lap. But after a moment she takes a deep breath and then another and in the span of two breaths Helena relaxes her hands and moves them off her lap to rest against the settee’s cushions, "I'm fully aware that I charmed myself into Nate's life; mostly because of his daughter, and I realize how hideous that sounds when said aloud." 

Dr. Mason sighs under his breath and then leans forward in his seat, "Helena did you truly want to escape the Warehouse or did you just want to escape Myka?" Helena smirks at the bluntness of the question. It's hardly worth answering since he's likely formed his won opinion on the matter. These sessions are fully sanctioned by the Regents for full disclosure which is unheard of but not at all surprising. "I feel compelled to point out based on your file that your previous superiors provided tha you had more female lovers than male ones, so I can easily deduce you had no problems with affections toward your own sex." A part of Helena feels so exposed in this moment but all things considered nothing he has said has been false thus far, so Helena chooses to continue reining in her simmering anger. "But I fear back then for you it was only a distraction. You've never had a real relationship have you, Helena?"

Helena is inclined to let this man continue to fill in the answers as he sees fits. Helena turns her head and closes her eyes; something she couldn't do while she was bronzed, not that there was any sight to be beholden to in the unending darkness. Helena listens to the good doctor shift in his seat; she hopes that her behavior is getting on his nerves. Her being compliant only goes so far in the sense that Helena only gives as good as she gets and today's session has left little to be desired. But then as if by some unspoken prayer being answered, Helena hears the increasingly familiar faint chime on Dr. Mason's desk which always signals the end of their session. So Helena opens her eyes as she rises from the settee and then adjust her leather jacket so it once more drapes properly on her trim frame.

Helena smirks down at Dr. Mason, "It would appear as though we are out of time." There is profound amusement to be had in that statement alone considering who Helena is which he is more than aware of. "And if you'll excuse me, I'm needed back at work this afternoon."

The only person Helena was ever this dismissive of in the past was her so called idiot brother. Charles was a boastful buffoon more often than not. Helena ignore the feeling of Dr. Mason's eyes on her as she moves to leave his office, "Don't forget your journal." His voice is neutral but commanding in a fashion and Helena stops just shy of turning the knob on the door. "Also I would like for you to keep writing in it Helena. Anything that you wish to be free of; think of it as a confessional." 

Helena quickly turns away from the door and crosses the room to snatch the journal out of Dr. Mason's hands. Helena abruptly feels like a petulant child that has been denied a request for sweets and a later bedtime. Helena stalls and glances around the humble office and at the degrees from institutions of higher learning displayed in frames along the walls. Once again, Helena regards this mostly unassuming man and waivers on how committed she can remain to this thing called therapy.

Helena swallows down her agitation and turns the journal over in her hands, "I will continue to write as requested and to answer your deductive observation about relationships the answer is...no." Helena directs her gaze at the doctor so he will have no chance in misunderstanding the truth that is about to pass from her lips to his ears. "There was no purpose in it for me to maintain such an expenditure of emotions." 

Dr. Mason says nothing; in fact he doesn't even react outwardly. So Helena turns to leave then for real this time and after closing the door behind her she exhales loudly and begins walking down the carpeted corridor. Helena occasionally glances over at the six other doors that lead to other forms of healers or charlatans housed within this establishment. For a moment, Helena finds the monotony of the setting reminiscent of a science fiction film she watched on the television not too long ago. Only instead of a vast white hallway adorned with innumerable doors this hallway in what is perceived as the real world is painted in a warm beige obviously chosen to soothe a person subconsciously or at least lull them into a state of blandness. Helena smirks at her observation. Upon entering the waiting room again Helena notices the other people and the new faces that have appeared since it was her turn. One thing Helena knows that she shares with these modern people is self-imposed walls and how the journey towards betterment aren't easy hence why they are seldom taken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The 2014 Soundtrack: "And Fools Shine On" by Brother Cane, "Rose Of The Devil's Garden" by Tiger Army, "Wars" by Hurt & "I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry" by Volbeat
> 
> The 2021 Re-write Soundtrack: "Far Behind" by Candlebox & "Jimmy" by Tool


	2. (~Phase Two: Waxing Crescent~)

* * *

The year was 1894 and the smell is what assaulted me first but then came the visual devastation. As Mr. Wolcott and I stepped off the landing platform of our vessel, I felt as if I couldn't possibly be more useless. We could have prevented what happened had we been properly informed of the 'curiosity' in time. But even with such an innocuous artifact in appearance alone still in play even more destruction could be wrought in another place at any given moment. I have doubts that the person in possession of the artifact is unaware of its clearly potent lethal nature. The destructor of this landscape is a simple bell; one a person would find on a farm animal so that it would be easier to locate in a large area. I've always found it fascinating that the most innocuous of objects are the ones that are capable of the most harm even when accidently activated. Never mind when they are being used maliciously. This place was once a sleepy fishing village on the Huangpu and Yangtze Rivers that has begun to teem with life and signs of progress, now the bustling city of Shanghai is nothing more than ruination.

"This is almost a stretch of the imagination, HG." Wolcott tones after what I imagine is his own silent musing of the carnage. "I wouldn't believe a mere bell to be capable of this. That is if I weren't here and seeing it with my own eyes."

I look glance around once more and try not to breathe too deeply. Because if I were to my lungs will begin to protest in the acrid laced air which still smells hot and almost flammable, "I would be inclined to agree with your assessment had the facts not been so plain and the knowledge that this Mrs. O'Leary's cowbell is responsible for the great fire of London in 1666 and also Chicago in 1871."

"So after twenty-three years it made its way across the ocean again to wreak havoc?" Mr. Wolcott seems to say more to himself than to me. "Or rather someone found a use for it, again."

I grimly nod my accent and we make our way towards the heart of the city. Side by side and at the ready. As Mr. Wolcott and I walk down the streets I pause by the haggard remains of small building. Curiosity pulling me forward, I walk over the threshold where once I'm sure stood a grand door. My eyes take in what the remnants, which isn't much, but then I notice a whole set of tools and equipment that lends to the fact that this was once a barber shop. As I move further with cautious steps, the crunch under my feet of burned wood which splinters as I move, and subtly echo in the shell of the hollowed out domicile. To my amazement, a single white apron draped over the back of a chair managed to survive, but several old style scissors and razors weren't so fortunate.

Then I notice a clean area on the floor, approximately the circumference of a standing person, so I kneel down in the area devoid of signs of a fire and run my fingers over the sooty floor. Reaching out with a gentle swipe the once highly polished floor emerges under my fingertips. I listen to Agent Wolcott's impatient footfalls as he enters, so I close my eyes against the noise and imagine a livid fire; one crawling over rooftops, leaving a trail of liquid red and blue, because at its heart a fire and its roaring flames burn an incandescent blue. I also see with clarity every narrow side street and alley we passed on our way here, and the corpses of bicycles that lay askew on the streets; the rubber burned off and the frame twisted and snarled from the intensity of the flames.

Mr. Wolcott quietly clears his throat, "HG, we should be pressing on."

Rising from my crouched position I turn to face my partner, "This was the source of the inferno, Wolly. We are in the right place."

"You are certain?"

"Quite." I say while rubbing my two of my now soot covered fingers together. Then just as I'm about to expound further on my analysis I spot movement out of my peripheral vision.

My partner's keen eyes follow mine, "Perhaps just an onlooker?"

On any other day I might have been inclined to agree but I know better. The truth being glaringly obvious in the destruction Wolly and I are surrounded by, "I'm inclined to think otherwise."

Mr. Wolcott grins while pushing his hat tighter down on his head, "Shall we give chase then?"

I chuckle, "After you."

Wolly makes a face, "Ladies first."

I smirk at him in passing as we begin to move out of what remains of the dwelling and take off down separate streets at an accelerated pace. Knowing this district of Shanghai the way that I do, I take the adjacent street the assailant is fleeing on as Wolly takes up pursuit directly behind him. With my advanced scientific knowledge I feel the adrenaline surge into my bloodstream, and Lord knows I love feeling this alive. It’s all I have left. Breathing in through my nose I run faster, my boots making very little noise as I maneuver through the rubble. I chance a quick glance and see the man several meters ahead of Wolcott; his white shirt quickly flashing by in-between the spaces of each dwelling that is barely standing. Up ahead I notice one building still intact, and with dusk upon us; the dimming quality of the sun is fading fast, and if I were eluding someone I would head to a familiar shelter. To recover the high ground and gain an advantage.

The man, who in my mind has the artifact, does in fact think as I do. He runs right into the storefront; disappearing into its shroud of darkness. Trying to flank or at the very least corner the assailant I instruct Wolcott to circle the building and cover the back entrance to what remains of an old Yanzhi Store that managed to hold itself firm against the fire. I take out my Tesla and have it at the ready as I too cross the blackened threshold. My eyes adjust to the twilight and I glance at the walls which are coated in soot and painted over in ash. How they must've creaked and groaned, no doubt still cooling from the inferno, so discerning any extra movements is increasingly difficult. The sound of my Tesla's current sizzling in my grasp only adds to the din and then I catch a glimpse of a figure off to my left. I persue carefully and quietly; haphazardly taking giant steps over the burnt flooring, that could in theory could give way.

"Don't come closer!" The sound of firm yet broken English carries throughout the room and I abruptly stop while the floor starts protesting under my weight. "The bell erase you in seconds!"

A thrill courses through my veins making me feel more alive even under the threat of imminent death. So I boldly side-step into the shadows cast along the wall behind the front counter of the Chinese drugstore. Merely estimating where the voice originated from while skillyfully avoiding the small bottles along the wall of various tonics and herbs that are quite miraculously unscathed. I continue on until the room opens into a large back room. Then I hear muffled steps advancing and out of the darkness my attacker strikes. It's unfortunate for him that with my Kempo training I'm always prepared. My teacher's most basic instruction was for one to be a warrior you must be ferocious on the outside but calm and tranquil on the inside.

So with ease I lean away from his heavy handed strike; still being mindful of the compromised flooring lurking beneath my feet, and pivot back to land a hard kick with my right just under his left knee. With a satisfying grunt his staggers but doesn't fall, instead he counters with a looping punch with his left arm, which I counter by punching down with my right while simultaneously landing a elbow strike to his ribcage. A rush of air leaves his lungs but I know my punch was softened by his solid abdominals that I made contact with. In a manner of seconds he moves to kick me in my right kidney but I quickly execute a right universal block over my right knee and block his kick. Then he attempts a left front crossover but I'm prepared for that as well. My opponent is not unskilled but he is all predictable brute force which is commendable where he not trying to win against me.

My attacker stalls for a moment; his breathing only moderately labored as he moves to strike at me again, "You had great Sensei."

I don't acknowledge his attempt at respectful praise. I deftly move to avoid his intended blow to my stomach and grab the outside of his left elbow; using his momentum to turn him until his back facing my front, and then I immediately land a right front crossover sweep to the back of his already compromised knee once more. The loud crunch and an accompanying cry of pain echo through the building and the man falls to the floor which gives squeal of its own and I'm reminded of how unsafe the surroundings are. Then in the next breath I hear another set of loud and hurried footsteps.

"HG, are you alright!"

Wolcott's nearing and elevated voice distracts me but thankfully the man on the floor hasn't managed to move very far from where he fell. Once more I carefully step to avoid any unsafe planks and start to call out to Wolcott, but before I can get a word out I feel a sharp pain in my ribs and I fall to the floor due to an acute lack of oxygen being forced from by lungs.

The man stumbles to his feet with a noticeable limp, "You fight good, but today not your day, Ms. Wells."

I try to move but it feels like I have more than a few fractured ribs from his calculated hit. Taking stock of my opponent, who caught me off guard and bested me, I note that he's about my height, lithe but muscled, dark pants with scuffed boots. His face is difficult to make out in the low light and the stinging in my eyes aren't helping in in way. I inhale painfully as I'm struck by the notion that I don't find it the least bit surprising this man knows of me, even though nothing else seems to register properly in this moment. I close my eyes momentarily from the sharp pain as my breath finally returns to me. Upon opening them it's no surprise to me that the man is gone; despite a fractured kneecap of his own courtesy of me. I attempt to stand as Wolly bursts into the room too late but nonetheless my partner through thick and thin. But then there's a loud screech and groan that reverberates through the room and then it’s as if the world slows to a crawl and I can only watch in abstract awe as the burnt floorboards give under Wolcott's weight and he disappears from my sight all too quickly.

I cry out in two kinds of pain and attempt to drag myself to my feet. Without a care for my own safety I move towards the hole in the floor and look down. Apparently, the building had a deep subbasement used for extra storage and drying. I listen intently for any movement but I hear none, so I call out Wolcott’s name into the darkness below but he doesn't answer. It takes a while for me to realize that he will never answer me when I call out to him ever again. The next morning in the aftermath of it all, I surmised it was all for naught, even as I was ushered back to my awaiting vessel that would take me back to my home. Mr. Wolcott's body was recovered and already stored for the voyage. My shame walking alongside me like an invisible man along my bandaged torso smarting all the way. I don't think anyone but the Regents will have a care for my failure and the loss of an Agent. The establishment had already begun to take stock of the casualties of Shanghai. Though I imagine all that could possibly be left was no more than ash.

* * *

"And that good doctor, was one of my last missions before I was bronzed." Helena's voice only waivers slightly as she looks up from her tightly clasped hands in her lap. Helena pauses because their is some part of her that still can't believe how freely her confessions are pouring out. But maybe it’s time; all dams do burst and spill their contents eventually. "I also failed to acquire the chain of Torquemada, even after it was tasked to me after my lapse in sound judgment in Shanghai."

Dr. Mason glances up from his notes in what Helena has come to learn as a silent urge to continue. Helena can't fault the man for actually listening and she can tell that he is. Helena has been around active-listeners and those types of people are merely waiting for their turn to talk.

Helena sighs heavily, "I felt I was in a downward spiral of epic creation. So shortly thereafter I took leave from the Warehouse in search of a dangerous artifact; not sanctioned by the Regents of course, after my partner Wolcott was...lost."

Dr. Mason allows the absence of Helena's voice to linger long enough while he finally puts down his pen and looks up from his notes, "Do you still see it as a failure in not being able to acquire the bell artifact? And why does it still weigh heavily on you in your assumed responsibility in Mr. Wolcott's death?"

Helena sighs again but this time it's much softer, "Both equally for a while." Helena crosses her legs thus eliminating her formerly more slouched position on the settee. "But obviously my part in Wolly's death is just one of the many demons I carry with me daily."

Dr. Mason hums out a small sound while the papers resting across his lap rustles as he pivots in his seat, "Would it strike you as too obvious if I said Mr. Wolcott’s death cannot be squarely placed on your shoulders?" Helena remains silent though her fingers twitch on her lap because she knows the next set of constructed words and while as right as they may very well be it still feels wrong to her. "Also would it be too obvious to say he knew the risks when accepting the job as an Agent of Warehouse Twelve?"

Once again Helena chooses to remain silent seeing as she is of the opinion that any vocal protests while valid will not gain any merit. Helena has been diagnosed with living in the past to the point of it being an unhealthy obsession. In the end though, Helena thinks this is just one of many topics the good doctor and her will simply have to agree to disagree on. Accepting her irreversible shortcomings is something Helena can and will have to live with no matter how unhealthy another might deem it.

Helena grins pleasantly in spite of her inner turmoil, "Actually Dr. Mason, the one thing that helped me gain some measure of acceptance in the matter, was when I learned from Mrs. Frederic that the bell was never used again. Nor had it resurfaced in over a hundred years not until it strangely came to be in the possession of Walter Sykes."

Dr. Mason stirs in his chair again minutely, "It seems Mr. Sykes had quite a fascination with you. Or I suppose more accurately all things Warehouse related."

Helena nods as her grins fades from the corners of her lips, "I fear it was both in equal measures."

Resigning herself to physically take a break from the topic, Helena rises from the settee and then move towards her therapists bookshelves. It doesn't escape Helena's notice that his eyes follow her. Helena has always felt that much about a person can be gleaned from their choices in literature. Unsurprisingly, many texts dedicated to his profession line the shelves but there is also works from names Helena's come to appreciate, both new and old. Jean-Paul Sartre, Friedrich Nietzsche, Mary Wollstonecraft. Helena grins but then she notice a section of names that she has only recently begun to recognize as people after her own heart. Works from Robert A. Heinlein, Isaac Asimov, Ambrose Bierce, Edgar Rice Burroughs and a long gone friend L. Frank Baum who dreamed up a land called 'Oz'. Helena smiles briefly again upon seeing a new personal favorite of hers, Ray Bradbury. Helena reaches up to remove the fine leather bound volume and upon opening it she notes that it’s a first edition signed by the author himself.

"Have you read any of Mr. Bradbury's writings, Helena?"

Helena smiles more and places the book back on the shelf in its clearly reserved spot, "Yes I have."

For a moment Helena thinks that it feels good to smile and be amusing to someone other than herself as of late. Helena suddenly finds it funny that the good doctor knew precisely what book she had in hand without even hardly turning in his seat.

Helena runs a finger along the leather bound bound spines of the collection of books along that section of the shelf, "I greatly enjoyed 'Fahrenheit 451'. A part of me finds it frightening that it accurately foretold so many things that have come to pass in this modern world." Helena turns away from Dr. Mason's assembly of literature and moves back towards the settee. "For example watching people on large screens mounted on the wall which rings true to those large flat screen televisions people have now." With less grace than usual Helena plops down in the settee in what has become her spot which is still warm. "And also how books were ruthlessly abridged for altered to accommodate persons with a short attention span in his novel which I feel is all too accurate when considering some books published in this day and age."

Dr. Mason chuckles lowly, "Very clever and I agree completely." The sound of his laugh makes Helena smile and very much like Myka she thinks that this is another person she can have an intelligent discussion on literature with. "I personally feel that Bradbury drew inspiration of the book burning from the Nazi's and the repression of outdated writings he used in his story from the 'Great Purge' of Stalin's campaign."

Helena frowns because of course she's aware of the events he is referring to which was just a few of the many things that once she learned occurred while inert, only disheartened her further on this failed utopia she awoke to, "You know in comparison to Mr. Bradbury and myself, I must say he saw things as they were designed to play out." The words are true but at the same time Helena finds herself marveling at her thoughts once ran and then how jaded she became in terms of hope after so much heartache and failure. "Whereas, I wanted only the best of things to bear fruit and reshape the world."

Helena grins at her youthful optimism from a bygone era that she left behind metaphorically and eventually literally. She learned long ago that even in the face of her disappointment she had to accept that each person has their limits and the limit of heartache she could not withstand was exceeded. With Christina's death and her choices thereafter to change such a blight on her soul did not provide the balm to remedy her greatest loss up until that point in her life. Now there's more of course. Helena is more than aware of how deep she has dug herself in this time and while she was digging she'd managed to take someone down with her yet again.

"Helena, I wish the world would've lived up to your expectations." Dr. Mason's voice is soft but it startles Helena out of her thoughts just the same as if they were a loud declaration. "It may still, because I choose to see mankind as an ever evolving experiment in progress."

Helena smirks and clasps her hands together on her lap. She takes note of the time and like always she is eager to be done with her required purge, "Are you aware Dr. Mason that for a time I spoke with another doctor much like yourself?"

The good doctor smiles, "Yes, because believe it or not Helena your file, that I have in on hand, does go back that far."

Helena politely laughs as though she were sitting through another one of her brother's book release parties where he got to speak at length on his favorite topic, himself and his brilliance. Helena laugh evaporates as quickly as she called it forth, "By the time it was recommended that I seek council I was past helping. So in the autumn of 1899 after my complete time travel failure in Paris I elected to be bronzed. I had just turned thirty three years old."

Dr. Mason uncomfortably shifts in his chair once before crossing his legs, "You know Helena I've come to look forward to our sessions." A small smile pulls at the corners of his lips. "And in the three months since your breakthrough I have learned so much, and not to abandon today's main goal despite both of us stalling, but you have yet to tell me the most basic bit." Helena smirks and mindlessly shrugs because he said it plainly that they were both stalling. "Tell me about your Victorian self and Mr. Wolcott."

Helena is inclined to respect persistence but this time around the sneaky doctor wedged another request in. Helena has spoken of dear Wolly already but apparently that was insufficient though she fails to see what more is needed. Does Dr. Mason wish to know how Wolly took his tea? If he had a 'one'? Or some other bit of knowledge that Helena wasn't privy to since she didn't tell Wolly everything just like she is certain he never told her everything. A person is entitled to their secrets when it hurts no one.

Helena puts on her fondest smile, "I refused to be reduced to wearing Edwardian fashions when not entertaining in my own home mind you. Since I quickly deduced that those damned S-curve corsets would be the death of me." Dr. Mason grins and shakes his head and for a moment Helena feels like her natural charm hasn't abandoned her completely. "A woman could hardly breathe without gasping for air and since the brain requires oxygen to speak I often regarded that corset as another cloaked attempt by men to silence women."

Dr. Mason smiles while he makes a few notes on a small pad of paper, "Not really the answer I hoped for but charmingly entertaining nonetheless."

Helena rolls her eyes, "To my knowledge it is well documented on what everyday life was like for women in my time. Granted, I was more well off than most but it was no different for me mostly. My apprenticeship and eventual promotion to full agent at Warehouse Twelve was the only exception to my life." At Dr. Mason's silence, save for the sound of his scribbles on his papers Helena continues. "Mr. Wolcott or Wolly as I often called him became a surrogate brother to me. He was so very sweet to me. A nervous chap though and perhaps a bit too in awe of my growing legend at the Warehouse."

Helena smiles at the memory of Wolly's rather stiff and reserved posture which was a contrast against his playful smile and bright blue eyes. Wolly's been gone a long time but yet Helena can still recall the sound of his voice. Helena inhales deeply and looks directly at Dr. Mason, only to find him looking at her with a small smile of his own lighting up his features.

"See that wasn't too difficult now was it?" Helena quirks an eyebrow up at Dr. Mason playfully condescending tone. "Now coming back to the hard stuff; your time spent in bronze. I asked you to write about your imprisonment." Helena's eyes track down to her journal laying on top of his notes that she surrendered upon walking in. "And I trust in the spirit of your therapy you elected to be...unguarded in your feelings?"

Helena finds the almost redundant quality of his question disarming so she nods while gesturing for him to freely open the journal that is resting on his lap. Helena observes the way his long fingers open the book to peruse the pages with quiet rusting sounds until he finds the latest entry. Helena turns her gaze towards the large window in his office but from her vantage point their is only an overcast sky. So she rises from her seat once again and moves to stand in front of the window. The view is modest, the tops of trees and a wider expanse of the overcast skies are the only coloring to this day’s palette. Helena watches the clouds rolls by; some darker than others mixing in with lighter ones. She has always found it perplexing that such things can coalesce into one being to change and emerge like a butterfly from a cocoon. Helena closes her eyes and recalls the words that Dr. Mason is now silently reading. The bluntness in those words are none to be taken lightly and the feelings they evoke are ones that Helena has never shared with another living soul.

* * *

_**Bronze Confinement, 1899-2010...** _

I had never been privy to a darkness like this and it’s suffocating in fact. Rather like a dark night where there is no moon or stars and the only sounds are your own imagined slow breathing. The only company was my thoughts which never ceased and they gradually decayed to the frayed ends of what remained of my sanity. Imagine struggling against invisible restraints. It is unquestionable that I asked for my imprisonment which is a clear indicator that I was not in my right mind. And as my fate unfolded I realized far too late what I allowed to be done to my person. This was not the solution I thought it to be.

Slowly, I began to warm to the notion that I had no real inkling what madness was until I was encased in bronze. Silent screams against a blackened infinity, fists clenched in defiance with no room to lash out. Looking back now, I would have been slightly loss tortured had I been confined to a small windowless room because at least then I could've moved. So with each passing day, month, year I lost the sensation in my limbs; they were still there, but I began to understand the 'phantom limb' scenario with a renewed perspective. I felt detached from my body yet imprisoned in it all the same. I was truly quite mad.

Even the most involuntary yet essential function such as breathing ceased to be relevant and that in itself was a startling discovery. You see in my immobile state my chest could not rise and collapse as it were meant to do, but yet I lived on by the grace of an ancient artifact. So day by day, I stared at what was the bronzed backs of my eyelids for what slowly became over a century and the only warm thought I had in my shell that provided me with any solace was my plan. It was my anchor, my tether. The very last place I could call home and a poor substitute at that.

I had it all down to a science before I became a living monument to true torture. But in my madness I ignored the variables that could occur should I ever be freed from my captivity and I had to rationalize that I would be at some point in the future. I went into the bronze willingly with the thought that some day I would be released from it. I knew then that there was no guarantee of course but that detail was of little consequence. Though I couldn't have fathomed such a person as Myka Bering existing, then becoming an important part of my life, thus making me, quite willingly I might add, thwart my best laid plans.

Freedom was grand when I emerged from bronze but my first breaths hurt. My limbs felt numb but the muscle memory returned with each passing minute. Leena's voice felt as though it was coming from underwater but I took her lead all the same. Even with a shroud draped over me as I ambled out with her into the blinding sun I felt it was my rebirth. And it was. Just not the one I had hoped for as it turned out, but that was my own doing. I had a chance to put aside my past but I refused to let it go. I think it's safe to say that not being able to let go was in fact my downfall. Twice no less.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The 2014 Soundtrack: "Hangman's Body Count" by Volbeat, "Adrenaline" by Gavin Rossdale, "Happy?" by God Lives Underwater & "Everyday Is Exactly The Same" by Nine Inch Nails
> 
> The 2021 Re-write Soundtrack: "Head Down" & "Echoplex" ['The Slip' Live Rehearsal Versions] by Nine Inch Nails


	3. (~Phase Three: 1/4 Moon~)

* * *

_**The Janus Coin Confinement & Hong Kong 2011...** _

Even my overactive imagination could never have thought up a practical application of how to contain a person’s consciousness while separating it from the body. I really do wish I had thought of it first. Not unlike before I welcomed my punishment once again. I thoroughly embraced my defeat with open arms and yet I felt it wasn't penance enough. I hurt someone tangible and not the whole of humanity that was more abstract within the context of my madness. I wounded a person whom I never wanted to inflict any damage toward but my own stubborn nature demanded it. When that gold coin was dropped into the palm of my hand, my world as I knew it, fell away and my body became a blank slate. Whereas my mind remained my own and when I wasn't 'activated' for lack of a better term, it was if I'd been sleeping and each time it was an awakening of sorts.

I will always be able to recall all those little reprieves where I was allowed to see Myka. Both the good and the bad that was brought forth during those few and far between encounters. The first time was in her parents bookstore. I was quite taken with its warm and welcoming feel. And yes I know how truly senseless that sounds when I was but a hologram. However, I was rather glad my body wasn't there in the flesh, so to speak, because when Myka saw me and then I heard the venom in her words I wanted to cringe. Fold in on myself and disappear. For me upon seeing her again, for just the briefest of moments, the things I had done ceased to exist for me and for that instance I thought she would be pleased to see me because I was happy to see her. That wasn't to be her truth within the moment though.

I knew that while Myka granted me forgiveness yet again, I only continued to wound her further each time we saw one another. There is no room for doubt in my mind that I truly dug the proverbial knife in deeper when I condoned my own destruction. When I bid Pete to destroy the harbinger of my consciousness, the Janus coin. Seeing Myka and the unmasked heartache present in her watery eyes and voice was rather like a wedge being inserted into my soul and my noble words the hammer driving it in with an elegant brutality. But to truly confess myself I need to say that had I been in my body I would've kissed Myka goodbye in that lush green forest under the sunshine without a care to whom was watching. I don't think she would've objected either to my forwardness or rather I hoped she wouldn't. It doesn't matter now.

Saying goodbye to Claudia also twisted my feelings quite a lot. To my profound surprise she admired me and believed in me also. I never had a sister and to me Claudia is an excellent option to fill that spot. But I fear I also let her down just as I've done Myka. So many bridges I have razed to their foundations but hopefully they are not beyond saving. Beyond my ability to repair them.

Then I was reunited with my body by Mr. Walter Sykes; a true villain, the man was bent on destruction, which I could relate to, but his reasons were far removed from mine. Yet he knew so much about me, far beyond what he could learn from a file. More alarming than any thing else Walter Sykes knew was about my affection towards Myka before he even saw the two of us in a room together. Then I suppose I confirmed his hypothesis in a way that to this day felt beyond my control.

When Sykes forced me to put Myka in harm’s way, in that deadly chair I could scarcely breathe. The whole time I could only think of the ways I had disappointed her, only this time it would be fatal. I remember how badly my hands shook and it wasn't the weight of the firearm in my hands. It was the effort of trying to control my emotions. Despite it all Myka's belief in me never wavered. In the time from opening the chess lock to opening the portal to Warehouse Thirteen twice, she once again reasserted my non-villainous status and praised the goodness that lay within me, no matter how deeply buried it was or still is to my own eyes.

Running through the Warehouse looking for a means to diffuse the bomb erased any thoughts I had of finally alluding to Myka my deep affinity for her. So I reduced it to a romantic notion I had while my consciousness was in the Janus coin, that I could freely confess myself to her, but in the flesh it became a choice that I didn't want to make any longer. So as I found a way to save Artie, Pete and Myka my own safety seemed completely irrelevant, which is why in my mind my extreme self-sacrificing nature was predominate at the time. I can recall even as I write these words that I felt it was a good death, noble and far better than I deserved. But can I also remember smelling apples; the Warehouse has always liked me.

Looking at it now dispassionately, it was all a bit of Shakespeare really. To be willing to die for her because in life we could never be. I can't accurately remember, nor do I really want to, what I would've said to Myka before I was immolated in the explosion. There simply are no words that spring to mind now that could ever measure the unending boundaries of love I've come to feel for her. But was I, or to be blunt, am I really worthy of such a precious gift? The promise of a third chance to have a life in a time that I was never meant to see though I often lived in the future daily in my thoughts.

_**Warehouse 13, 2012...** _

Arthur plead on my behalf to the Regents and I was ultimately granted complete freedom. I could barely fathom why this man; who made absolutely no effort to mask his extreme loathing of my person, would suddenly change his mind. Of course I found out why much later but until that revelation I was curious to no end. However, I never approached him or anyone really and I never went back to the B&B. Instead, I moved to Featherhead and lived in one of their very nice hotels on my stipend from the Warehouse. Eventually I was granted access to my family’s wealth and I learned that an author truly does accrue a fair amount of interest in a hundred years.

Then I was a probationary Agent once more, working alone, and mostly assignments handed to me directly by the Regents or Artie. I missed Myka dearly, but as the weeks passed the pain lessened, or at least I told myself that enough times that I began believing it.

Then out of the blue Artie requested my assistance in locating an artifact, I stalled of course for obvious reasons, namely for fear of interacting with Myka. Nonetheless, I reported all my actions to Mrs. Frederic after telling Artie I would look into the matter. But having so many unanswered questions began to eat at me, so I discretely made my way to the B&B to see Artie in person, to update him on my progress in locating the artifact he tasked me to find. I went to confront him for answers and ones he freely gave after I pressed him hard in my own charming way. I almost couldn't believe he found and used Magellan’s Astrolabe and then I wondered exactly why he went back and what precisely that he changed.

A few weeks later, once again I discretely made my way to the Warehouse, and Leena the pure soul that she is understood why I was avoiding Myka. Mind you she didn't condone it but she understood. Once again confronting Artie, Mrs. Frederic, Leena and I finally learned the truth that Warehouse was destroyed and myself and Mrs. Frederic along with it. I'd almost forgotten what such a blow felt like. It was a wonder that I managed to stay on my feet. Then came the sarrowful knowledge of learning that Pandora's Box had been taken from the world too. As bad as I think the world is I would't want to live in that kind of world. A world with no hope. I'd been to such a place before, lived there even.

When I was ordered to disappear with the Astrolabe a multitude of thoughts crossed my mind. The most obvious was my loyalty being tested on many levels. Me of all people being entrusted with something that not so long ago would've held an unimaginable temptation but no longer did. Another part would be my fortitude to follow orders to not contact anyone which I did without question. Even though it was a legitimate request by my superior, I felt as if I were being exiled. My thoughts naturally went to Myka as soon as I stepped out of the Dark Vault with the Astrolabe. I had been avoiding her and now I wouldn't even get a chance to tell her goodbye. So I quietly left and didn't look back.

~~_**Boone, 2014...** _ ~~

If I could travel back in time and really change things clearly I would. After all in the past I have tried valiantly but despite my efforts I always came up empty-handed. And it goes without saying the trials of my failure will always weigh heavily on my heart. I have made so many mistakes, even with my deductive logic to know better, and in my pursuits I have wounded a great many people. But one the person I have utterly destroyed, and I so plainly witnessed the destruction on her brave face, as she stood there and cast aside her own heart solely to ensure my false happiness. So much sadness overtook me that I could barely breathe as I watched her leave yet I did nothing to stop her. Again. My inaction was telling. Screaming really of cowardice.

Now all that’s left is my own little farcical world that is all the more lacking in her absence. Sadly, I feel I've all but squandered an opportunity for something I had yet to truly experience in my life and that is my 'one'. I thought it absurd for so long since in my mind there was no one that could possbily match me in every way but it turned out I was wrong. Obviously, had I lived out my natural life I would've been long dead before Myka Bering would be born. The Bronzer allowed us to bridge the century but I failed to see that in time. I always seem to get in my own way more often than not.

Later during my interloper days in Warehouse Thirteen, I learned from Leena that Myka's father had read her my stories as a child. To say it moved me is a gross understatement. Honestly, knowing that Myka grew up listening to my words and being enraptured by them was immensely flattering. I often wondered if I lived up to her expectations as a child that if she would've been able to meet me. I know I was not what she expected minus the mustache of course. I never asked her during our time together. I was too busy plotting my next move but looking back with clearer vision I really wish I'd had the courage and asked.

To be forthright, I couldn't have loved her the way she deserved to be loved. By rights I am the most damaged person one could chose and by that sound logic I felt she was choosing poorly. Or perhaps it was my fear of the unknown? In my time I reveled in the unknown, coveted it really, but now maybe it’s my hundred and forty eight years bearing down on me. I just couldn't in good conscience stay to properly court Myka even after I sacrificed myself for her. And all the while I embraced the notion that I was willingly throwing away yet another chance with her. Pushing her aside was the hardest thing I've done in a very long time. I am an arsehole.

* * *

"So you knew of the Astrolabe before Arthur Nielsen used it?" Dr. Mason reverently closes Helena's journal almost as if it were something precious. One of a kind. Perhaps it is. "It was the one artifact that could have given you Christina back. So tell me, had you been able to acquire it back in your Warehouse Twelve days would you have used it knowing the cost that comes with it?"

Helena is momentarily caught off-guard but she opts to grin and bear it, "Yes on both counts because there's no price too high for me. Her death brought me to madness and I doubt the Astrolabe could have done any worse by me." A grim look swiftly passes over Dr. Mason's features while he makes some notes in the open file that is also resting on his lap. "And to answer your first question... yes, I knew about the Astrolabe long before Artie used it."

Dr. Mason clears his throat, "I must say of the artifacts I've inadvertently learned about in my time helping agents, it certainly sounds like one of the most frightening powerful ones."

Though the observation feels redundant Helena is inclined to agree nonetheless, "Yes, and it is just as fear inducing as the piece of masonry from the House of Commons."

Helena represses a shudder at the memory of Artie finally telling her how that artifact wiped her from the Earth faster than a blink of the eye. There would be at least no pain. Not that Helena is afraid; it's more akin with the fact that she's experienced enough for two lifetimes as it were. Both physical and mental.

Dr. Mason reaches up and adjusts his glasses, "That was the artifact that destroyed the Warehouse in another timeline, correct?" Helena simply nods because her mind is still on that day. Learning that not only was she vaporized but that the world was stripped of one of it's prized resources that so many take for granted or some lose faith in it all together. At any rate the notion of the world being robbed of hope was as much of a blow. "So when Arthur told you had died in another timeline how did that make you feel?"

Helena closes her eyes briefly but then opens them to gaze directly into Dr. Mason's blue gray eyes, "Like all the wind had been let out of my sails. You see after Christina was taken from me I courted death frequently. I became reckless. But not once did I imagne that it would actually get its hands on me, as incredulous as that sounds."

Dr. Mason closes Helena's file on his lap, "Yet you sacrificed your life for Myka. And I would call that a good deal more than just being noble and far removed from reckless."

Helena swallows against the pressure building in her chest, "I know."

Dr. Mason leans forward and places Helena's file on the low table between them, "And in those last moments; if you could remember them, what do you think you would've said to Myka?"

Helena's chest tightens further at the notion of such a thing. An impossible choice that she made in another timeline. Another life. A detail she purposefully left out of her confessions in that infernal journal. Helena simply couldn't bring herself to acknowledge an atrocity like that by giving it a life on paper.

Helena straightens her posture, "I would have told her that I loved her. And that I wish I had said it much earlier, as clichéd as that sounds. Which is on a par with all dying wishes."

Dr. Mason tilts his head to the side as if studying Helena from another angle will provide a new perspective, "So you don't love her anymore?"

Helena exhales loudly while willing not a single tear to gather in her eyes, "Have you not read some of my most personal thoughts? I will never stop loving her; it’s just the small matter of me." Helena's words are somewhat terse but she relaxes back into the settee; its warm leather making a small noise under her shifting weight. "Myka can do far better."

Dr. Mason shrugs and then places Helena's journal on the low table too along with her file, "If you say so, Helena. Although, I find that very unfair and selfish of you really." Helena nearly gapes for a moment at the decidedly less than padded rejoinder coming from her therapist's mouth. "Myka deserves a say. She impresses me to no end." Dr. Mason grins and it seems to Helena that he's pleased that he surprised her with his words. "And if I were lucky enough to have someone like that was in love with me then I wouldn't turn them away. Because in my opinion that kind of love tends to make people be better than the sum of their parts."

In that moment Helena cannot help but smile genuinely at the romantic soul before her that is masquerading as a therapist, "That’s a very beautiful notion, despite the fact you haven't met Myka. But you are privy to some of the worst parts of me."

Dr. Mason returns Helena's smile as he shifts somewhat uncomfortably in his chair, "I only know what you have chosen to divulge to me about yourself and it has only made me want to help you more. Everyone needs help at one time or another, Helena."

Helena finds that she doesn't have words in this instance to accurately express the sudden gratitude she feels towards this man. Instead, Helena opts for silence as a simple thank you which Dr. Mason seems to recognize as he regards Helena with a sort of reverence for a moment.

Dr. Mason shifts in his seat again, "Now if you don't mind I would like to shift gears for a moment. I would like to hear about you as a writer."

Just like that the abrupt fondness Helena feels evaporates. Helena and crosses her legs and then forward on the settee to clasp her hands together over her knees, "Nothing to talk about really. I was the brains while my brother was the only acceptable face that the public would embrace."

Dr. Mason smirks, "Be that as it may, it doesn't change the fact that those books would not exist had you not dreamed up their contents."

Helena scoffs, "Clever. And yet a rather obvious point that you no doubt felt compelled to make."

Dr. Mason smiles politely, "You know your brother might have helped with the writing but as a fan I feel compelled to point out that the books published under the moniker H.G. Wells while you were bronzed... I found them to be lacking. They just didn't read the way the earlier books did. And of course now I know why because the muse and the creator herself was unavailable."

The mood once again lightens and Helena finds herself laughing at her therapist telling her that he is a fan of her writing. Helena has already perused his shelves and she didn't see a single book on his shelves to prove such a claim. Helena will give him the benefit of the doubt though since it matters not in the grand scheme of things. After all, HG Wells the writer died on August 13, 1946.

Helena shrugs, "Charles took all the accolades but I owe him something greater." Helena takes a deep breath and welcomes the familiar aches back into her heart. "He also let people think that he was Christina's father and that I was the doting Aunt. Had people known the truth about me, about Christina's true parentage, about an unmarried woman such as myself in my time I would've been disowned and driven away."

Helena would've have stood by and let such a fate befall her but she would've been ruined. Society is a joke in it's beliefs especially in regards to women. Helena was not shocked to find that little has truly changed; some things on the surface of the matter has, but other more deep-seeded ways of thinking are not going anywhere.

Dr. Mason sighs, "I know Christina's death hit you so very hard, for many reasons which I think doesn't need to be repeated here today." Helena knows there is an addendum coming because there always is. "But I'm sure I don't need to tell you that moving on with your life is healthy. However, so we're clear your daughter is irreplaceable. There is no replacement in this world that will ever fill her shoes." Dr. Mason pushes his glasses up and smiles as if that will soften his words. "You can find a more fulfilling happiness and then life takes over and who knows what will happen then?"

Helena very nearly rolls her eyes, "You're talking about Myka aren't you?"

Dr. Mason offers another brief smile though guarded this time, "Is there or was there really anyone else?"

Helena is barely holding on her composure, "No."

There are tears lurking just below the surface but Helena decided before she agreed to this sedate torment that there would be no tears shed in front of prying eyes. There is a cost though to clinging for dear life onto your emotions; Helena knows the price intimately. It's how she ended up in bronze and everything else that followed. In short, Helena feels drained but then she is saved again by the chime signaling the end of her session. The sound suddenly reminds Helena of the bell that marks the close of each round of a boxing match.

"That’s enough for today, Helena." Dr. Mason rises from his chair and Helena wastes no time in following suit. She is all too eager to leave. "But before you go there's someone who would like to have a word with you."

Helena turns as the door to Dr. Mason's office opens, "Ms. Wells."

Helena barely quirks an eyebrow at the authoritative figure is is Mr. Adwin Kosan. Helena thinks again that another addendum has walked in the door. But they had better not try to snatch away her freedom again. A larger part of Helena now thinks that she owes them no more. Being vaporized in another timeline is payment enough.

* * *

Helena quietly falls into bed utterly exhausted by the events of these last few weeks. It was multiplied even further tonight by having to explain things to her boyfriend, as they are titled these days, that she is going to have to leave within the next few days. Helena also may have deliberately left out the part that she won't be coming back for now since she felt there had to be a limit on what she could or rather wanted to tell him. Nate after all is not her one and never will be. The acknowledgment of that fact and after saying some of it out loud left Helena feeling completely ridiculous hiding away in this pleasant, yet simple existence. Helena never wanted this picture of life when it was being forced upon her by her own family more than a hundred years ago. She wanted something more and that has not changed. Helena Wells is not Emily Lake, she just pretended to be her for a while.

Helena already had endless wonder but learned that a life like that comes with a price but then again it all does no matter its exterior. Helena wonders for moment if she has become timid in her advanced age. But if that where even somewhat true that still it hardly justified her telling the one person who knows and accepts her for who she really is that she is replaceable and unwanted when Myka is anything but. Helena is wrung out but at the same time she can hardly find sleep. Then again how could she after over a hundred of being immobile? Which is yet another thing the man lying next to her will never understand and she don't have it in her to try that conversation. Helena closes her eyes and wills her mind to shut down if only for a spell. So many things she's said and done to Myka that she wishes could be undone. Helena rolls over and buries her face into her pillow that gives into the push. The scent of her shampoo eventually masks the less than desirable scent of the laundry detergent.

* * *

I told her once not to walk away from her truth. Pity that it's now painfully obvious I wasn't smart enough to follow my own advice when it truly mattered. I walk closer now that everyone is gone and then my knees just give out and make contact with the grass. The dampness seeps through the knees of my trousers, chilling me. I clutch my chest because my heart aches and I know my tears will never dry. I can't breathe. This feeling only happened once before and I almost didn’t survive it. An old pain that never leaves but the cause this time is new. It’s the same pain as I felt when Christina was taken from me; a hollow empty ache in my heart. Unbidden images of Myka flash before my eyes, much like they did when the Regents used that infernal Janus coin to effectively neuter me. I don't see myself returning to Boone but I can't stay here either.

I would've given my last drop of blood to have had another chance to have told her the truth for once and maybe then she would have stayed for me and I would have stayed for her this time. I shall never run out of tears for this cruel kismet of fate. Over a hundred years had to pass before I met my Myka, who was my one and she was amazing. With a sharp inhale, I force myself to look up at her granite monument and I can't see her name because a torrent of tears that has clouded my vision. How did I let it come to this? It didn't have to be this way. But now there is nothing to do but mourn for what can never be and I shall be hollow forever for it. I deserve no less. I've squandered so much in my long life and to think there is more to come. The thought depresses me further but I doubt that I can get any lower than I already am.

"HG, you have to get up."

I startle a little at Pete's somber voice because I didn't hear his approach. I wasn't listening though. I live in my own head too much, I wish I could say my time in bronze was to blame but that would be an outright lie. For the first time in my life I have nothing to say and at my silence I hear Pete move closer to me. Then I feel his hand on my arm gently pulling me to stand. My knees feel weak, everything is wrong. A few silent minutes pass but I wait because I have nowhere else I want to be. There is no place left to go.

"I lost my best friend HG and...an important part of my family." Pete's voice wavers from this staggering sadness. I feel his hand slip off my arm and he just stands closely beside me. "I...I don't know...what I'm going to do now." His voice is so broken; it just serves to make my tears flow more freely. "I loved her. Mykes was like my sister and now she’s gone and I..." Pete's voice trails off for a moment and I clench my hands into fists in a vain attempt to staunch the flow of my tears. "I know you loved her too HG and maybe if you had stayed she would've stayed a little longer."

"Pete..."

"No, Helena let me finish." Pete turns to face me and like before I find myself waiting for his barbs to cut me down. "She loved you flaws and all. There was no one else. I saw people go after her and none of them were good enough in my eyes for her. But that didn't matter because she didn't want them."

Pete's face is a portrait of grief and I feel it to be a mirror of my own. The sunken eyes rimmed in red and his normal stature seems almost slumped and withered even. Then again the burdens we carry weigh heavily on us until we can lay them down if we ever do.

Pete frowns and then hastily wipes at his eyes, "I'm sorry I was such a shit to you sometimes, Helena. But you were a shit to Myka most of the time." Pete shakes his head and glances off to the side for a moment. "And I felt I had to stand up for her because you hung the moon and the stars in her eyes and in my mind you hadn't earned that from her."

I close my eyes and I feel the fresh tears pressing hard against my eyelids, "I know Pete and I agree with you completely."

Pete shrugs, "But you're here now HG. Why? I mean, it’s too late now."

Helena jerks awake, clutching her hand over her thudding heart. She feels hot tears running down both of her cheeks with each blink. As the true nature of the nightmare washes over Helena she covers her mouth to stifle a sob while chancing a glance towards her companion in bed, who barely moves despite the disturbance. But for that she's glad, Helena has lied to him and to a little girl, who as Myka and Dr. Mason observed, as a replacement for someone who cannot be replaced. Helena quietly composes herself with the balm of that is was only a horrific dream as she runs her hands tiredly over her face. After another minute Helena quietly slips from beneath the bedcovers. The cool air of the room hits her bare feet and causes a slight shiver to arise within. Helena silently moves across the room and opens the door, leaving the bedroom she vows to stop lying to everyone but mostly to herself above all else.

The details of Helena's dream lingers with her as she purges it into the small brown journal that has become her salvation and perhaps a repository too. The desolate feeling gradually wanes as she recalls and then commits the nightmare to the journal's formerly empty pages. A tear falls from Helena's eye and lands upon the words: 'If Myka were to be taken from me, I don't know what would become of me. Bronzing wouldn't be an option.' Helena doesn't attempt to blot the wet mark from the page either. A tearful watermark upon a confession made by a wandering old soul who is struggling to find her place in this world, Helena thinks as she watches the page dry to crinkle in that one spot, upon those words.

Later, in the same early morning hours in the borrowed quaint kitchen, from a stolen life, Helena sips her tea. A long overdue revelation has occurred. Emily Lake has no past and no future and to think it only took several months of therapy to gain that small bit of wisdom. Helena finishes off her tea and places the cup in the basin, just as Adelaide passes through, and while smiling at Helena the young girl grabs her backpack and leaves for school. On this day Helena finds herself looking forward to the last session with Dr. Mason. She is going to ask him for guidance on a way to say thank you and to ask him how to properly say goodbye to two people who have been good to her even after everything. But yet they are the same people who've said nothing after witnessing the only person on this Earth; that Helena loves beyond words, willingly walk out of her life because she thought this was Helena's utopia. Helena know though that if she were to be honest with herself for once, that Myka left because she believe that Helena didn't want her and couldn't love her under any circumstances. That is all untrue of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The 2014 Soundtrack: "Too Afraid To Love You" by The Black Keys, "Ohne Dich" by Rammstein & "In Joy And Sorrow" by HIM
> 
> The 2021 Re-write Soundtrack: "Chlorine" & "Doubt" by Twenty One Pilots


	4. (~Phase Four: Waxing Gibbous~)

* * *

Helena has a keen eye for detail like any real thinker. Lately though, one activity that she invariably finds herself repeating is watching Dr. Mason inspect her journal once she surrenders it to him at the beginning of their session. It's worth noting that no single time has he ever just glanced over it and quickly dismissed its contents as merely satisfied scribbles of a frantic mind. No, his inspection is always at a snails pace and today Helena is in no mood to bear witness to his slow and steady race to the finish line. There is something on her mind and she doubts it will leave her anytime soon. Writing it down did not purge it or even dim it's influence to linger well past the normal lifespan of dreams and what they're made of. Dr. Mason is obviously reading the new pages where Helena spent this morning encapsulating her nightmare to paper.

Helena takes a deep breath, "I had a horrible dream about Myka last night."

Dr. Mason looks up from the pages in front of him to gaze at Helena with concern, "Would you like to talk about it first today?"

"Yes." Helena shifts forward to sit on the leather settee's cushions edge. "Believe it or not I can be agreeable."

Dr. Mason closes the journal and remains behind his desk instead of taking his usual seat in the chair across from the settee. Helena is tries to gather her thoughts into some semblance of coherency. The room is quiet, save for the ticking of a small antique clock on one of his book shelves. The clock reminds Helena of old-fashioned ticking bombs and not the modern digital timers that are as deadly as they are silent. Though there will be no explosions of that sort in this office but Helena imagines it has seen its fair share of dramatic outbursts.

Helena stares down at her hands clasped together on her lap. There is a faint tremble in them presently, "I dreamt of her death." I Helena's words are merely a whispered breath, as if saying it any louder will make that nightmare a reality. Her vision blurs and then she take another deep breath as of to clear the air. "I don't know how she died. But it doesn't matter because I could never survive if something were to happen to Myka." Helena's voice trails off in volume, from what little there was to begin with. She suddenly feels so very lost, unbalanced and adrift. "Even though death is a reality we all must face. That is unless you find yourself bronzed or immortal."

Helena is of course speaking aloud to someone who isn't ignorant of the Warehouse and the wonders it shields from the world at large. There are a great many artifacts capable of all sorts of seemingly improbable and impossible things after all. But Helena thinks that between being bronzed until the world crumbles around you or being immortal and witnessing the world crumble are two fates worse than death.

Dr. Mason stands up from his seat behind his desk, the chair faintly squeaks at the action, "Helena, the dream is your subconscious acting out. We've spent a good deal of time discussing Myka and its only natural after your; shall we say epiphany at our last session." Dr. Mason moves around the end of his desk. "And since this dream resonated with you to such a degree I think..."

"I have no issues with my own eventual death though technically it has already come and been undone." Helena interrupts because she couldn't bear to hear the end of the good doctor's sentence. "But I cannot imagine a world without Myka in it." An unbidden tear slides down Helena's cheek which scarely reacts to. "It would be poorer for it."

As far as declarations go Helena thinks her admission is quite profound in the sense that she means her world would be poorer. Where as to the world at large would perceive Myka as no more than another soul living out her days; trying to find purpose. A minute or more passes in silence and Helena spares a glance at Dr. Mason who is perched on the side of his desk. He seems to be studying her either that or he's quietly brooding away at Helena's rare display of rudeness. Helena looks away from him and once more her focus lands on his bookshelves. Right away she notices something that hadn't been there before. Some of her books and from the looks of them they're old. Without closer inspection she can't confirm it but they appear to be fine leather bound volumes. Helena then wonders if they are first editions? Clearly, he wasn't lying about being a fan of her writing. But then her next thought is why he removed them in the first place? Regardless though, HG Wells now lingers with the others who line his designated place of honor and it makes Helena smile inwardly even through the turmoil churning inside me.

"I think instead of talking about her with me today, maybe it’s time you called her, Helena."

The statement pulls Helena's attention away from his bookshelves, "What?"

Dr. Mason smiles, "You heard me. And yes, I own some of your books. But I removed them when I accepted you as a patient ."

Helena's mouth quirks up faintly in wry smirk, "Were you ashamed? Or did you fear that I would take you less seriously?"

Dr. Mason chuckles and slips of the end of his desk and moves towards the chair where he usually sits during our sessions, "Helena, please call her. If only to hear your friend’s voice because we both know you want to." Helena glares momentarily at Dr. Mason after his blunt but no less than true statement which only provokes an a smirk out of him. "Call Myka."

Helena continues to glare because she will not be told what to do in regards to contacting a certain someone. In the end he merely sighs and then clears his throat, "I removed your books because I didn't want to seem like such a 'fanboy'." Dr. Mason's obvious mirth colors his muddled accent delightfully and it forces Helena to soften her glare. "There, the big mystery is solved. Moving on now."

Helena briefly grins in spite of herself, "I am familiar with the term 'fanboy'. But I see no harm or a demeaning quality to it whatsoever." Helena leans back in her seat and then smiles. "After all, upon inspection you do seem to have excellent taste in literature. Thus it's only right that my works should be present seeing as I birthed the genre of science fiction."

Dr. Mason laughs loudly and Helena suddenly feels like her cocky yet charming self again, "You certainly are modest."

Helena has the urge to roll her eyes. Modesty is overrated in her opinion given the century she is a product of. Such a notion was more than encouraged for women to adhere to but at not time can Helena recall the idea of 'modesty' being a trait men should subscribe to at least on a part time basis.

Dr. Mason takes off his glasses and then wipes the lens with the hem of his sweater before putting them back on, "Seriously now, when was the last time you saw Myka or called her?" Helena abruptly feels rather ashamed of the truth that she's about to utter aloud. "Why do you continue to indulge this isolation?"

Helena sighs, "Ten months ago. It's been that long since I've heard her lovely voice or laid eyes on her face." At the admission Helena is instantly transported back to that last hug. Watching Myka try to hold in her tears which she barely managed to do. The memory itself makes Helena's heart ache. In the next moment Helena reaches up to grasp her necklace; feeling the cool metal against her fingertips is always strangely soothing. "And I'm not indulging in isolation as you phrased it. I did that already up until I safely returned the Astrolabe to the Brotherhood of the Black Diamond."

With a heavy sigh Dr. Mason eases down in this chair across from Helena, "A person's choices are their own. Even the bad ones are not without their merit because we all make mistakes and in turn we are supposed to learn from them. Not doom ourselves to repeat them." Helena gazes directly at Dr. Mason; carefully considering his words. "These past eight months you've been coming to see me have been by far the most challenging I've ever done as a therapist." Dr. Mason offers Helena a small smile and she grins at the truth in those words. "And I've met some interesting souls doing this work for the Warehouse."

For as much as Helena nurses her sore spot for her last days as an agent for Warehouse Twelve, before succumbing to madness and welcoming the bronze, she has been remiss in acknowledging how different things are in regards to Warehouse Thirteen. In truth, when these sessions were arranged by Mrs. Frederic, after the Astrolabe ordea, Helena was waiting for a good chiding about how if she'd been more honest then she would've been granted help sooner. Before every one was clued in to how far off the deep end she'd gone and stayed for well over a hundred years while being trapped in her own mind with no reprieve. Such words were never uttered by Mrs. Frederic. The Caretaker didn't even push when it took Helena a few months to attend her first session with Dr. Mason. Helena will never admitt that she too busy ensuring her place in a man's home that she barely knew to address her mental health. Which is very telling all on its own.

"Our time is almost up Ms. Wells in more ways than one." Dr. Mason's calm voice interrupts Helena thoughts. "I'm pleased to inform you that you've come far in your treatment. But a great deal of the progress yet to be made is solely up to you."

Helena nods, "I am aware of that."

"Good, but I do have one last piece of guidance for you." Dr. Mason crosses his legs and Helena has always thought that sitting that way must be terribly uncomfortable for a man. "Call her Helena...doctor’s orders."

Helena chuckles under her breath at the suggestion's phrasing and the now all too familiar bluntness, "Well then if it be your will and if you'll kindly excuse me for a moment I shall get right on that."

Dr. Mason chuckles and waves Helena off to make the call which catches her off-guard. Their session hasn't ended officially seeing as the bell has yet to toll. Helena grins and rises from her seat on the settee. As she moves towards the office door she removes her cell phone from the inside pocket of her leather jacket. Helena stalls at the door and stares down at the technological marvel in her hands. It's not really a marvel once you've gotten used to communicating via a Farnsworth. When Helena laid eyes on that device all she could think is how ingenious a creation it is. Durable too. Cell phones are mass produced and designed to fail so as to turn a continuous profit in this modern world of consumers.

"Ms. Wells, you're stalling."

Helena lightly laughs and then turns around to face Dr. Mason again who is now seated back behind his desk, "In my time we called it 'doddling'."

Dr. Mason makes another shooing motion with his hand but before Helena can pretend to be offended the chime sounds that marks the end of their session. Helena shakes her head while she turns and reaches for the doorknob and twists it open. Helena thinks this doesn't feel like a suitable ending though she has attained a good amount of closure on long-standing parts of her past. It's in that moment Helena thinks of poor Artie and how the rest of his days will be spent living with what his own internalized evil wrought due to using the Astrolabe. Helena knows that he is also being afforded a therapist too but his is masquerading as the B&B's new innkeeper. Helena hopes that Artie's stubbornness won't be such a detriment to his healing but that might be wishing for too much.

* * *

Once Helena is out on the street she timidly selects Myka's name from her short contact list and presses the call feature. Helena knows the number by heart as it were though there is no real need to actually punch in the numbers one by one. Helena takes a deep breath and as she raises the cell phone to her ear she feels her heart begin to fluctuate within her chest with each passing ring. Several rings come and go unanswered and for a moment Helena fears that Myka will ignore her call. Helena then thinks that Myka has every right to given how they parted. Hollow promises, platitudes and awful things said and so many good things left unsaid. Helena is about to hang up when the line opens but then in the next instance Helena thinks she's about to get Myka's voice-mail greeting. It's then that Helena remembers that Myka will not recognize the number since Helena changed it, along with her phone.

"Hello?" Myka's voice is just as velvety as Helena remembers and it causes warmth to blossom within her. "Who is this?"

Helena smiles on impulse, "Hello, Myka."

"Helena?"

Helena smiles at the surprise evident in Myka's voice, "Of course darling, how many persons with a British accent do you have calling you? Should I be worried that I'm not the only one?"

Myka sighs, "What do you want?"

At the immediate and unmistakable irritation in her voice, the smile falls off Helena's face, "I did promise you coffee and I was hoping we could do that sometime soon."

"I can't, HG."

Helena instantly frowns at the raw sound of dismissive anger in Myka's voice. That and the fact she didn't address Helena by her given name like she came to do. An older man walking by on the sidewalk bumps into Helena and he keeps moving without apologizing. Helena is aware of her surroundings enough to know that the man was trying to pick her pocket but Helena keeps her identification and some money in a special inside pocket that she made hidden on the inside of her jacket. But that's not a pressing concern right now. A growing uncomfortable silence is stretching the distance on a mere telephone call.

Helena's throat is suddenly burning along with the promise of tears, "Why not?"

"I just can't Helena, not now. I have to go."

Those hurried and dismissive words that strike Helena's heart as Myka ends the connection before anymore can be said. Helena's vision narrows and the whole world goes silent. Save for her frantic heartbeat and then the sensation of what occurred in her dream about Myka's death washes over again but this time in her waking world. Helena slowly moves her cell phone away from her ear and lowers her arm until it hangs listlessly at her side. There are so many questions clamoring for space in her mind.

Has the love she offered me withered on the vine in my absence?

Have I truly lost all that mattered because I wasn't ready and afraid?

Why did I have to be so dismissive when I saw her last?

What have I done?

Helena's lungs are starting to burning because she had ceased to breathe. On this sunny and fair autumn evening Helena feels as if a dark and unforgiving winter has quickly descended upon her and it intends to ravage and smother her to death. Helena takes in a shaky breath and even on suddenly feeble legs she has but one place to go for solice from this horrid truth that she has brought upon herself.

* * *

J _ **anus Coin Confinement, 2011 : Addendum...**_

My greatest tell of affection for Myka was after the success of the Joshua's Trumpet mission. Which I aided in even though in my incorporeal form I felt rather useless and easily ignored. After not having seen her for many months, as it felt to me at the time, our last encounter being when Mrs. Frederic brought me to Myka's family bookstore. Much like that moment in the bookstore, I couldn't refrain from brazenly appreciating the person before me, as she meticulously placed the artifact in its new home on the Warehouse's shelf. I remember feeling foolish and uncharacteristically awkward because I wanted nothing more than to finally show some display of affection towards her. But alas I could not. My touch would not have been welcome even if it wouldn't have passed through her. I was truly nothing in that moment.

So we simply talked in a roundabout way of my actions in Yellowstone and the emotions they stirred up in us both. Myka's voice sounded hurt, resigned even, but light at the same time. So I hastily managed to tell her in the most reverent and endearing way that I thought we made a good team. She agreed in that same resigned way if perhaps a bit wistful as if she were ruminating on what could of been had I not bungled it through and through with my century-old anger. I had no lungs physically when she uttered those words: 'And then you...' but my breath left me at the sound of her voice. She was so forlorn and then I was afraid of how Myka was going to finish that sentence. But to my surprise her last words were more melancholy than anything else. I wonder even to this day what she withheld from me. If I could've handled all that was on her mind.

I too wish now with all that I possess that I had realized what I was doing sooner rather than much too late. But the fiction writer in me rationalizes that fate had other plans. My own penance at the time was to accept that I had lost my last opportunity of exploring the possibility of having something more with Myka. I can't recall any other time in my entire existence of being utterly selfless. Still, when she was about to turn off the device that held my consciousness, I reached for my necklace, for its comfort because of the look on Myka's face. I shall never forget her expressive face for what remains of my wretched days. I think had I been in my body I might've taken a liberty that would surely have earned a slap to the face. Instead, I forced myself to accept that this was goodbye, even though she didn't want it to be and neither did I.

* * *

Helena walks briskly back to Dr. Mason's office trying to keep her impending tears at bay a fraction longer. His receptionist has already left for the day, so she goes directly back to his office. Though it's with some measure of decorum, Helena knocks on his door before letting herself in.

Dr. Mason looks up from Helena's open journal on his desk, "Ms. Wells, is something wrong?"

Obviously, Helena interrupted him reading the final contents of her tome; the last dregs, which have been her rawest of emotions laid bare and housed within its simple pages. Helena's tears finally fall with abandon at the sound of his tender and somber voice.

"Myka doesn't want to see me anymore." Helena sobs out while frantically wiping her eyes with one hand. "I've...I've lost her."

And then realizing she's still clutching her cell phone in her other hand; Helena suddenly feels like hurtling it into the nearest wall. She refrains from doing so since it's not her wall to damage with her anger and sadness. Instead, Helena closes the office door behind her and then moves to sit down on Dr. Mason's settee in her usual place which in itself is a small comfort right now. There is silence for a moment and Helena hears the rustle of pages over her now stifled sniffling. She outright cry later in private.

"Helena, the days of Myka running to your aide is over." Dr. Mason's voice is gentle but his words are stinging the fresh wound. Helena turns her head to glare brokenly at Dr. Mason but he only smiles sadly in return. "I had to be blunt. I can't in good conscience tell you what you want to hear. And as difficult as it might be to bear now, I felt it was something you needed to learn on your own but I hadn't thought it would be today specifically. I'm sorry." Helena watches as he rises from behind his desk, closing his briefcase and then picking up my journal that is now lying beside it. "What lies ahead is something I can't help you with at the moment. My profession is about picking up the pieces after a tornado blows through. Not the other way around."

Dr. Mason click the locks on his briefcase as Helena lowers her head and wipes at the lingering tears in her eyes. Helena fears there isn't anything to be done for the permanent ache in her chest now. But then perhaps that is her punishment this time for her failure.

"Helena." She looks up just as Dr. Mason comes to stand in front of her. It takes a blink or two to clear her vision but it's then that Helena notices that he's holding her journal out to her in his other hand. "You should keep this. It is a heartbreakingly beautiful chronicle of how real love eats, breathes, overcomes flaws and forgives unconditionally." Helena sits up straighter in her seat and meets his gray-blue eyes. "I'm envious of what you can have."

Helena takes the small brown leather bound book in her hand, "Can have?"

Dr. Mason smiles knowingly, "The H.G. Wells I've come to know is a stubborn fighter. So are you going to fight this to the bone like a bare knuckles fighter or are you going to let go and settle for something mediocre and never know your one?" Helena finds herself smiling warmly at the encouraging words masked as a tease and a taunt. "And a few words to the newly wise Helena; take your time. I've helped you as much as I can but the rest is up to you. Settle your affairs with Nathaniel and Adelaide and when you're ready, when you're certain, go pay Ms. Bering a visit."

Helena nod and then runs her fingers over the smooth leather of her journal, "What if she won't see me?"

Dr. Mason smiles, "From one Englishman to another so to speak, that’s where the fighting part comes in handy. Because what you two have is something that if it were me I wouldn't let go of without a ruff scuffle and a black eye or two show for it at best."

Helena smirks and looks down at the journal in her hands; its leather feels familiar in her grasp. When the idea was suggested to her all those months ago she merely laughed. Helena hadn't kept a journal in a very long time and even then all she wrote in one was embellishments of romantic conquests. The thought of how she conducted herself in her attempts to ignore her grief sickens her. That she did such a thing. But yet Helena acknowledges it also demonstrates how far removed she became little by little from her right mind.

"Thank you Dr. Mason…for everything."

"Call me Oliver. Since you're not a patient anymore and because hopefully you consider me a friend now instead of just your doctor?"

Helena moves to stand up off the settee and then she offers my hand which he takes with a smile and shakes in return, "Oliver it is. And I have never been of the mind to refuse an offer of friendship in any time."

Dr. Mason smiles and lets go of Helena's hand, "Good luck and do stay in touch." Then he readjusts his grip on his briefcase. "Walk a middle-aged man out?"

Helena laughs lightly and nods in acquiescence to the request, "I'm a hundred and forty eight you know."

Oliver laughs as he opens his office door and then holds it open for me, "Poor Myka, how did she ever stand that sass of yours?"

Helena shakes her head, "She used to like it as I recall, and I consider it my duty to inform you that Myka has some sass of her own."

Dr. Mason laughs as he fiddles with his keys and then locking his office door, "I figured as much from the way you spoke about Myka. Although, I still can't believe you two would deny yourselves." The charming grin falls off Helena's face and once again she reminded of the phone call. What caused her to come back to this place. "Helena, I know love above all else is complicated. Even more so in yours and Myka's case. But it has always saddened me that something so pure should be simple, not spiral into an all-out maddening descent. Not to mention unrequited love is the worst journey of them all."

A brief silence falls between Helena and Dr. Mason as they walk down the now darkened corridor from his office. Their footsteps muffled by the worn carpeting. Surprising herself, Helena begins to smile at Dr. Mason's eloquent assessment of the trappings of love as Helena tucks her journal under her arm, "My, my Dr. Mason." Helean teases while gently knocking his shoulder with hers. "You should have been a writer yourself."

Oliver laughs and we stop at his receptionist's desk where he signs out for the evening, "I'll take that compliment with pride from the great H.G. Wells herself." He places the finishing touches on his elegant signature. "Now if the Warehouse had bronzed Mr. Dickens and I were speaking with him now I might not be so flattered. Especially since my parents declared it a must to name me after their favorite book of his: 'Oliver Twist.'

Helena laughs and walks out of the building with Oliver, "Would you have preferred something along the lines of 'Edward' or 'Montgomery' from The Island of Doctor Moreau instead?"

Oliver smiles, "Yes, actually I would've. Although having said that, I know I couldn't tolerate people calling me 'Montie' as a nickname."

Helena laughs again and it's noteworthy that laughter does truly lighten even the heaviest of loads, if only for the short span of time until it fades. Helena knows that there is a long road is ahead of her but for once in a stretch of time she feels thoroughly equipped for what lies before her. Though it might be with some well-earned timidity, Helena honestly hopes for only good things for the first time because it seems like anything less than that will be hardly worth all the strife that's bound to come her way. Nothing good ever comes easy after all. Though Helena has thought off and on that it would be nice every once in a while if it was less difficult. It's a good thing that she likes a challenge because that is Myka in all her glory. A wonderfully beguiling, charming, fierce and intelligent challenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The 2014 Soundtrack: "The End Of Heartache" by Killswitch Engage, "We" by Volbeat, "Time Is Running Out" by Muse & "I Dare You" by Shinedown
> 
> The 2021 Re-write Soundtrack: "Hometown" & "Cut My Lip" by Twenty One Pilots


	5. (~Phase Five: Full Moon~)

**[Myka]**

* * *

_**The Bed & Breakfast, 2013...** _

This seems so stupid to me because I'm no writer even though I have so much passion for the written word. But here I am unburdening my soul for an audience of one and thank God for that. One word comes to mind now and it’s the one word that I will have to face in due time: 'closure'. I know I'm nowhere near there yet and as hard as it’s going to be, I know can no longer entertain impossible feelings anymore, especially after last week. A part of me wishes Claudia and Steve had taken the ping. I took the call but they could've went and got the artifact instead. Or maybe not. Claudia did have to goo the Warehouse joint when it was being prevented from trying to 'grow'. I can't believe the Warehouse actually grows. But it makes sense if you really stop to think about it.

The point is that I saw Helena again after a little over six months and I still don't know what I expected to find. I wonder now if maybe I had been prepared, and not so much like a raw exposed nerve from the thought of seeing her again after such a long time, things might have gone slightly easier for me. Forewarned is forearmed and I definitely wasn't suitably armed to withstand what I came across. The H.G. Wells herself living a lie and being supremely happy about it. To me it seemed like she'd put herself in the witness protection program under the alias Emily Lake. But no, it was Helena Wells pretending to be Emily Lake again but this time she was very aware of her choice.

God, I know an empty promise when I hear one and H.G.'s coffee promise rings loud and clear. I feel so ashamed now that I couldn't keep from crying in front of her. That I had to force my words out otherwise I would have collapsed at her feet and begged for her to see me as more than a friend. How did I let myself get so caught up in her? I wouldn't have thought love could make you hate within the same breath. But then I willingly got involved with a married man when I knew I shouldn't have. When will I ever learn? Though in will be a cold day in the Leeman Fornax before I get into a relationship with Pete. No more co-workers or partners for me. I need to start looking outside of the bubble I live and work in when I'm ready. I don't know when I'll be ready.

It seems to me like I never really tried to not let her get under my skin. I remember vividly the first moment I saw her and now I will remember the last with just as much clarity. Of all times to remember my Secret Service training to maintain mental clarity and focus. Oddly, I never could have accounted I would use it to keep my head while I metaphorically allowed another kind of bullet to pierce my heart. Self-sacrifice for the greater good is ingrained in me but using that way of thinking in my personal life is not going to yield healthy results for me. I know that now.

Myka sighs as she closes her cheap faux black leather journal. She bought it because it reminds her of Harry Houdini's. Her first artifact whammy. Myka slowly swivels around in her slightly squeaky computer chair away from her desk. Slumping down further into the now broken-in feeling of the once firm lumbar support, she absently twirl a lock of her hair. Without invitation her mind goes back to what feels like years ago, when it’s only been days. Myka silently hopes that no one will notice or thankfully not mention her almost perpetually red-rimmed eyes when she had to leave the safety of her room for food or a ping. Myka closes her sore eyes and smothers the sob that is waiting to be let out at the emptiness of her room. Myka has never felt this low before and by rights it's a strong enough feeling to cut down even the tallest and strongest of men at the knees.

* * *

Myka firmly closes the door to the security room behind her, "Helena, what the hell was that?"

Helena grins and shrugs in obvious disinterest, "I have no ideal to what you are inferring. The ruse worked. Now shall we view the security footage now or not?"

Myka scoffs and move around Helena towards the computer terminal but then stops just shy of it and turns around to face Helena, "A ruse? Okay...how about this, you made me feel like some cheap floozy in front of those two cops."

Helena shrugs again, "You asked for my help gaining entrance in here did you not?"

Myka closes her eyes at the bored and agitated sound of Helena's voice. She hates how dismissive Helena is being about this and she's the one who called. Biting on her bottom lip is the only way to keep from really yelling at Helena because Myka's patience has just about run out. Myka turns away from Helena and pulls out the chair in front of the desk that has a few computer monitors perched on it. As soon as Myka sits down she rapidly taps through the keys to access the security cameras files needed. Focusing on the task at hand calms Myka down to the point that she almost forgets for a few seconds Helena is even in the room.

"I see you've been watching Claudia."

Myka smirks in place of startling in her seat at the intrusion of Helena's voice which sounded oddly seductive. "We trade tips."

Not for the first time Myka thinks that life is easier around H.G. when she has something to distract her. But even this artifact retrieval isn't doing it. So Myka calls Pete and brings him into the fold as mostly another distraction. While Pete is rambling on, a passing though occurs to Myka and it's that she used to be a good agent until she met HG and then everything went from black and white to just endless hues of gray on gray. At one time, and maybe even now, Myka knows that there's nothing she wouldn't or do for Helena. But the real deafening blow was when Myka realized just why she was so easily compromised in matters concerning a certain science fiction writer. For a moment Myka gets caught up in the memory of the first time she worked a case with Helena. It's been nearly three years but she distinctly recalls how it felt watching Helena pick the lock to the dorm room and then charmingly gush over post-it's.

"Myka, I really need to get home."

The sound of Helena's melodious voice makes Myka cringe now because now she knows precisely what’s waiting for Helena at her new home. Honestly, Myka doesn't the man or his daughter. She can't really since they mean something to Helena, even though she think the whole farce is complete bullshit. Myka would still think that even if she had no emotional investment in Helena.

"Okay, HG." Myka manages in between keystrokes and watching the monitors for the early man features now on display on the perp or in this case artifact victim too. "Pete and I have it handled."

"Very well then." Helena almost seems to sigh out in that bored, dismissive tone she's been using all day. "Thank you for all your help, Myka."

Myka begins feeling like she's going to be sick and she knows exactly why and the worst past is that there isn't a damnthing she can do about it without making a complete fool of herself. Myka just sits there in front of the bank of computer monitors and listens to the sound of Helena's footsteps moving further away until the door to the security room opens and then closes with a solid snick of the door latch catching. Myka lets out a deep shuttering breath while thinking that she's right back where she started after what happened at Warehouse 2. She's sad, angry and confused about Helena all over again.

* * *

Myka really didn't want to go back and get another eyeful of Emily Lake's domestic bliss. But she also just couldn't bring herself to be so accepting like Pete appeared to be. However, Myka is not made of the same matter as her man-child partner. Though she would be lying if she said that she didn't admire his carefree demeanor because she could sure use that right now. Myka doesn't envy him in this moment though for having to sit there with Helena's boyfriend in the living room and make small talk. Myka thinks that Pete likely got a vibe that she wasn't the one for that job anymore than he would be ideal for trying to talk some sense into Helena because this seems like another kind of madness to Myka. A relationship built on lies has no future.

Myka bites down on her lower lip, "You know I'm not trying to fight with you on this. I mean you are the one that took my words to..."

"Myka, I can't and simply will not have this discussion with you any further!" Helena interrupts heatedly and her dark eyes seem to simmer with agitation. But Myka is not backing down from this. She talked HG out of her Yellowstone plans and that was a life or death moment. Myka feels that the only difference in this instance is a gun and an artifact of mass destruction. "Your wild theory of my chosen involvement with Nate because of Adelaide is just too much right now."

Myka exhales loudly and leans against the island countertop, "You called me out of the blue and I came here to help you. I'm your friend Helena and do forgive me if I say that hurt like a son of a bitch earlier when you said this is the only place you've felt like you belonged. I mean where did Claude, Artie, Pete and the rest of us wrong you?"

Myka suddenly doesn't see the point in mentioning what happened with Artie. To tell Helena about Leena when Helena clearly doesn't care about any of them anymore least of all her. Once again, Myka finds herself getting incredibly frustrated with Helena for what feels like the hundredth time today. Forget the past, this Helena is nothing like the person Myka came to admire and care about. Myka feels like she looking and talking to a stranger. This is not even Emily Lake that she's talking to. Myka met her too. But this person?

Helena steps closer to Myka, "I didn't imply that you or the others wronged me as you so aptly put. I meant that this is a place where I have no ambitions or expectations to be placed upon me. I can just be at peace for once in a very long time."

Myka is struck incredulous, "That’s just bullshit, Helena!"

Then Nate's ringing cell phone bursts into our quiet yet highly emotional anger-filled conversation. Myka is glad though because she knows that she was about to go even further off into the deep end. She's inclined to get too emotional in certain circumstances and this is turning out to be one of them. Myka is ready to grab Helena and try to shake some common sense back into her. Myka can't decide if it's a good thing that chasing after the artifact is back the forefront again is a good thing after a lull like this, in this awful place, in the middle of the suburbs. According to Pete, Hell looks like a gated community and this place isn't too far off the mark.

* * *

After the mess with the artifact, and the two men using it as they saw fit was handled, Myka knew there was still more to deal with. And in a display of strength that she didn't know she had left after this exhausting day, Myka will try to make things right with Helena while still doing her job. And then with some shred of dignity, hopefully she can manage to gracefully make her exit from Helena's new life like the other woman so desperately wants. But if Myka is being honest with herself this day has torn her in two. So maybe holding onto her dignity, as in not crying in front of Helena, is probably not going to happen though.

Myka just stands there watching Helena walks towards her and Pete while they wait in the driveway. Myka feels her poorly erected façade starting to crack the closer Helena gets. Myka knows that this is finally goodbye and no matter how much she doesn't want to see it she can. It’s written all over Helena's face and reflecting out of those dark depths that are her eyes and it only gets worse as we exchange awkward pleasantries. At one point Myka really wants to hit Pete for all the stupid things he's saying; tell him to just shut up for once, instead she manages to hold it in with a pained smile.

Pete finally runs out of things to say or he couldn't take the tension anymore and climbs into our SUV. Unfortunately, Myka picks up where he left off; not being able to stop the stupid ideas trickling out of my own mouth, ones that were far worse than what Pete said. Finally, Myka gets into the SUV that Pete has idling away. In a last ditch effort, Myka tries to play it off like nothing was hurting though the smile on her face is as fake as it gets. Myka takes a long look out of the open window of the SUV, even though it's too chilly to have the window down, at Helena while Pete starts to pull out of the driveway.

Once Myka lost sight of Helena she turned in her seat and hits the button to roll up the window. The cabin of the SUV instantly quieted and in that moment thankfully or maybe not everything seemed to blur for Myka when an almost undefinable notion occurred to her. She told Helena that she was chasing a ghost earlier but for all appearances Myka has been too. Myka gasps at the feeling hitting her in the chest as she blinding reaches for her seatbelt. Myka clicks her seatbelt as the memory of how when Helena's timid hug dissipated and her arms fell away from Myka that we'll both be haunted now for the rest of our days or at least Myka will be.

* * *

Hindsight being no less than perfect twenty-twenty, Myka still couldn't have imagined at breakfast this morning with Pete, Steve and Claudia that her day would turn out like this. The rest of the team running off to fix the Warehouse likely got off easy. Truthfully, Myka doesn't think that imagining anything anymore is healthy. But the obvious point made to Myka tonight is: love isn't enough and certainly not hers. Myka didn't realize that she had been waiting for Helena until the other woman told Pete and Myka about seeking and then finding a life outside of the Warehouse.

And now in this moment Myka feels it much like a swift punch in the stomach. Myka is undone; forced to open her eyes and see things clearly and it hurts. Right now all Myka can do is try not to cry anymore in front of Pete on the drive back home, to the Warehouse, to the B&B. The silence in the car is unsettling but Myka just can't make herself fill it and brush off her still processing feelings so quickly as if they were no more than a speck of lint on her jacket. Myka inhales sharply and wills her eyes to dry and not one more tear to fall until she's in the privacy of her room back at the B&B.

Pete sighs as if trying to match Myka's but his is nowhere near as pained, "Mykes, I want you to know I wasn't defending or condoning HG's choices today." Myka sniffles slightly and clenches her hands into tight fists. "I was just thinking out loud and telling her what she wanted to hear." Myka silently nods my because she ended up doing that too since Helena was in no mood for the truth. "But mostly I want to say I'm sorry if what I said hurt you Mykes...because...I know how you feel about her."

Myka closes her eyes. She knew that she was doing a poor impersonation of a happy person and really she doesn't know why she thought her partner would fail to see right through it, "Pete how did you...?" Myka opens her eyes and then tries to clear her raspy throat but no more words will come.

Pete exhales deeply and then he slows the vehicle down and pulls over to stop on the graveled low shoulder. He puts the SUV up into park and then turns in his seat to look away from Myka. She's not ready for this either but it’s surprising to her that he is. Then again underneath the childish exterior, penis fixation and disgusting eating habits he has always had a heart of pure gold. The slight humming from the vehicle's idle mingles in with the silence; both seem to fill up the cab but Myka just sits and wait for him to start.

"I thought she would pick you Mykes because there is nobody better than you." Pete's words are uttered so earnestly that Myka feels more tears welling up in her eyes. Only adding to the ones that have been there all evening since Helena came back into her life and not the way she'd stupidly hoped it would now seem. "I know you don't want to hear this now...but I always got nothing but good vibes between you two. I mean, now that I've thought about it, she could've used that doomsday pitchfork before you and Artie showed up. I think she was waiting for you to stop her." Myka sniffles and then reaches up to wipe under her eyes. "She knew you'd be there."

Myka can't speak because she knows that if she does she's going to end up crying for real. She still really doesn't want to full out cry in front of Pete. She barely hanging unto herself so she squeezes her eyes shut and inhales deeply through her nose to stem the tears some. Myka unclenches her hands and forces herself to relax though she's beginning to shake all over even in warmth of the SUV.

"I hate that you're hurting Mykes because its hurts me too. I mean how could she not see how you felt because I finally saw it." Pete means only the best of intentions but instead of making Myka feel better it feels like the knife to the heart and its being twisted in to cut deeper. "And I know it can't be because she doesn't like the ladies, because she did say 'many of my lovers were male' not all."

Pete jokes in a horrible British accent, no doubt having maxed out his adult quotient a few minutes ago. Myka exhales loudly at Pete's attempt to lighten things back up but it’s far too soon for her to take any teasing jokes. Helena's sexual orientation has nothing to do with this situation in Myka's opinion because it boils down to the fact that it’s her.

Myka runs a hand through her hair and turns in her seat to face him even though he's not looking at her. Instead his attention is fixed on the steering wheel that he's gripping at ten and two as if the car were still in motion, "Please don't Pete...not right now. It doesn't matter anymore what I might have felt."

Pete makes a face at the steering wheel, "Yes it does. I mean I loved Amanda and I loved Kelly and I'm glad I got to have my time with them. But you, it’s just not fair." Pete turns his head to briefly glance at Myka but then looks away. "I heard everything and it took restraint, which I normally don't have, to not get out of this car and tell you both to get with the program. Helena's man friend and spawn be damned, girlfriend."

Myka laughs a little despite herself while still looking over at Pete, who is clearly pleased with himself, "Knew that would get a response out of you." He finally turns his head to smile at Myka while pulls the gear shift of the SUV down into 'Drive' and then pulls back out onto the highway. "I mean who is HG kidding but herself? You got all the game to pull in as many ladies as you want. The gun, the badge. You don't have the chin like I do but you're tall. Ladies like a tall drink of water."

Myka chuckles and quickly leans over and lightly punches Pete on the arm. What would she do without him? A surrogate older brother who's loyalty to her is priceless. She wants to cry a little bit harder because of it later because she definitely won't be doing that in this car tonight, "Thanks Pete."

Myka smiles for real just for a moment. A reprieve from the sadness that is just starting to take root in her again. Myka shifts in her seat to look at the dark, nondescript highway through the windshield. The yellow line is so faded that the high beams of our rented SUV barely reflects off it like it's supposed to.

"Anytime, Mykes...anytime."

Myka smiles more but half-heartedly at the warmth in Pete's voice but at the same time she's making a promise to herself. The promise is that she's going to break down in the privacy of her room; smother her tears into her pillow. But after she's cried herself out Myka is going to put her thick skin back on and then she's going to hope that the other proverbial shoe doesn't drop. A large moth hits the windshield and Pete ew's and yucks as he turns on the wipers and the sprayer which smears it's now wet, impacted remains across the windshield.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The 2014 Soundtrack: "Last Goodbye" by Jeff Buckley, "You" by Candlebox, "Forever Fades Away" by Tiger Army & "I Can't Make You Love Me" by Adele 
> 
> The 2021 Re-write Soundtrack: "I Wish I Never Met You" by Sam Sparro & "Heat Of The Summer" by Young the Giant


	6. (~Phase Six: Waning Gibbous~)

* * *

_**The Bed & Breakfast, 2013...** _

It's been two months since my diagnosis and it’s also been two months since I left Helena in Boone, Wisconsin of all places. I thought she would've gotten bored by now but the reality of the matter is if that were a possibility then that would've happened long before I showed up. I actually wish my bitterness had more to do with her choice but it's more to the point that I don't understand her choice. I would go insane if someone forced me, at gunpoint and it would have to be that kind of threat, to do what she has chosen to do. God, why did she have to call me? My heart was just starting to drift a bit and I've been trying to get it to even though I know with certainty that I will never love anyone else like I do her.

I'm trying to get used to the fact from here on out that I will end up settling for someone else. That is if I survive what's on the horizon for me. Realizing what a mark Helena has left on me all over again makes me feel desolate. I feel like I've transcended towards Shakespearean fiction like my middle-namesake, Ophelia. I'm tragically Helena's whore, just not in the sexual sense, but a whore for her attention and adulation. Without her around and knowing now how she is spending her time, I fear like the character in the book, grief and madness are all I have to look forward to. I won't just let it happen though. I've come through worse and now I have a bigger test than just Helena to focus on.

I'm writing today because it's been two years ago exactly that I returned to the Warehouse for her essentially because she asked me to. I'm big enough to admit that to myself but not to anyone else. I don't think I have to. They all likely know anyway. What would be the purpose of pointing out the obvious? At one time I believed that she only succeeded in convincing me to return because she knew the Warehouse was my happiest place. That much is true but I've learned that there are no lengths are too great for me where she is involved. She has a place in my heart now for better or worse. I imagine my affections for Helena are transparent to everyone at the Warehouse who has eyes to see. I'm not very subtle anymore even though she's not here.

I wish my heart hadn't latched onto her, it’s like I had no control in the matter. It just happened seemingly without me really paying attention. That is how I just let her use me because something from her was better than nothing.

I don't know how to move on. So many things have left me in limbo, and I just keep getting knocked down by them.

My cancer could kill me but I'm actually going to die from a broken heart.

With a sigh almost akin to a sharp pain Myka recaps her pen and closes it up in her journal and then places both in the bottom drawer of her desk. Myka don't know why she thought this was a good idea but it does seem with every word of her feelings that she writes down lifts the burden. Myka is not ignorant of therapy tools. She's not an expert and she won't be discussing her issues with Abigail though she probably should. Not so long ago Myka would have been mortified if someone were to find her little secret but now she's just too tired to care. Now is not the time to waste time dwelling on it because there's a ping that needs tending to if Myka's buzzing Farnsworth is any indicator.

* * *

"Mykes?" Pete drawls out and Myka can already feel herself getting frustrated just by the tone because she knows what he's about to say. "Not that I'm starting to complain or become your warden. But you don't look so hot and shouldn't you have stayed home and just waited on your test results?"

Myka shakes her head and shoves her hands into the pockets of her favorite black trench coat, "Pete, I needed to get away for a while and I'm not exactly handicapped yet now am I?"

"No but..."

"No buts, Lattimer." Myka sighs and forces a smile that is half-hearted but it's the best she can manage at the moment. "And I think a little easy..."

Pete squints his entire face up which is not a good look, "Shhh, you can't ever say easy, Mykes."

Myka chuckles lightly at his facial expression while thinking he is so going to have some seriously deep crow’s feet if he keeps doing that, "As I was saying a little snag, bag and tag is just what the doctor ordered as far as I'm concerned."

"Alrighty then." Pete holds up his hands in surrender for a bit before he claps them together and then looks around at our surroundings and then he sniffs the air as if he's trying to add bloodhound to his man-child repertoire. "The air even smells rich. Don't they sell air around here...you know an oxygen bar, spa thingy?"

Myka smirks and glances around at the very wealthy district of London known as Knightsbridge. There are many exclusive salons and fashion houses in this part of London. This area in particular is home to the likes of Jimmy Choo. Not that Myka is the type of woman to covet designer labels. The nicest clothes she has ever worn was when she was playing at being a runway model and then she felt like if she were parading around in a towel that at least would've covered more of her.

Myka makes an effort to inhale the air in a ridiculous manner, "I don't know, Pete. I think the air just smells crips for a late spring evening." Of course Pete doesn't laugh but then Myka notices that Pete's attention has honed in on an extremely attractive well-dressed blonde woman walking towards them on the sidewalk. "Careful, I don't think she finds drooling a turn on."

The woman smiles as she passes, "Pardon me."

The scent of her perfume lingers which Myka immediately recognizes as Ralph Lauren's 'Notorious' which of course is only sold on this very street in Harrods. Myka knows this because her brain houses vast amounts of information on a variety of things. Myka briefly appraises the woman; her tall slim yet undeniable feminine curves accentuated by the Stella McCartney fitted color block dress, and with the assistance of a pair of four inch black Manolo Blahnick stiletto’s, easily makes her almost two full inches taller than Myka. Then as if feeling Pete's bulging eyes or maybe Myka's more reserved glance on her the woman turns back to glance at Pete and Myka and then smiles brightly.

Pete surges forward but Myka catches him by his arm, "Easy there sailor, you might want to remember you're not in the Navy and this is not the time for your shore leave." Myka grins and Pete gives another pull before sighing and then saying under his breath that Myka is supposed to be his wingman, not a cockblocker. Myka ignores it and straightens the sleeve of Pete's jacket where she pulled on it. "And I don't think she needs you chasing after her on the sidewalk either."

Myka shakes her head and then she notices that the woman is clearly enjoying the show. She probably heard them. Myka sees the other woman smile before turning around and then walking rather provocatively down the sidewalk. There is some difficult to miss swagger being presented but Myka has seen better with less effort.

Pete scrunches up his face, "Oh my God, this sailor is beyond wanting to plunder her booty."

On reflex Myka punches him right on the arm, "Ouch, Mykes."

"Oh right, like that hurt?" Myka rolls her eyes as Pete rubs his bicep while making a pained expression the whole time. "You're such a baby."

Pete tilts his head to the side and Myka just bets that he's watching after the blonde woman's behind, "Wonder how much it costs to live here?"

Myka clears her throat loudly; hoping for him to take the hint and unglue his eyes already, "Well, a parking space alone sells for three hundred thousand pounds on a required ninety-four year lease."

"Shit!" Pete exclaims a little too loudly and Myka smacks his arm again. "Or maybe I could just snag that hottie and she could be my sugar mamma since this daddy don't got that kind of scratch?"

Myka can't keep from laughing at Pete's comment. Also, she admittedly continues to watch the other woman but not for the same reason as her partner. The woman finally disappears into one of those expensive salons Pete and Myka passed a few doors down, effectively disappearing from their sight.

Myka sighs and turns her attention on Pete who has at least straighten his neck up before getting a crick in it, "I think we've done enough sight-seeing. So how about we formulate a plan to snag the artifact?"

Pete attempts a thoughtful smile but it falls short, "Sounds very covert...in a nerdy way."

Myka crosses her arms over her chest, "Bonham’s auction house is where we're going tonight after closing, for those of us who never read the file."

Pete scoffs, "I skim it...sometimes, most of the time."

With a smirk, Myka patiently waits for him to process. Pete fiddles with his own black trench coat and oddly Myka finds herself waiting for him to ask her if Helena Bonham Carter owns the place. But he apparently isn't going to make that joke even though it's a good one.

Pete glances around at our surroundings again, "So we're going to steal from an auction house?" Myka grins and waits for the next obvious question. "I mean why not just bid on it?"

Myka shrugs, "Because the Warehouse doesn't have that kind of scratch either."

Pete smirks and he places his hands on his hips, "Not bad Mykes, not bad." Then just as Myka is about to say more Pete continues. "Wait, is this gonna be like that time we snatched that Marie chicks guillotine a few years back?"

"Hopefully not." Myka intones absently since her mind is replaying that snag. The guards she had to subdue the old fashioned way. This time around she knows full well that she's not up for that if it comes to it. "But at least this time I won't have to worry about not fully-charged Tesla's or overly eager security."

Pete frowns a little but then laughs, "I'm sure the guards will mind their own business while we swap out the genuine article for a fake. We have a fake right?"

Myka glares at him on principal, "Yeah Pete, I have the fake and the auction house has a security system, not guards." But then she merely casts a glance around at where we are again. Myka wonders if the people around them knew what kind of work they do how would they react to the knowledge of the hidden in plain sight dangers of the world. But the masses are oblivious even on a crowded London street in an upscale part of town. "A good amount of museums and galleries have realized it's more cost-effective to use a security system."

Pete drops his hands from his hips, tiring of his superhero posing, and then turns to grip Myka by her shoulders, "Good to know, Mykes. What would I do if you didn't read the file for me old chum?" I frown a little at his attempt at guilt. "Anyways...do lead the way milady wouldn't want to be late for high tea." His terrible impersonation of a British accent causes Myka to roll her eyes. "Onward to Bonham’s post haste and no dawdling."

* * *

One of the Warehouse's many decryptors makes short work of Bonham’s security system. It's almost effortless with how the tools of render complex digital systems irrelevant. Myka tucks the decryptor back into her trench coat pocket and then pulls out a small repurposed tablet that Claudia made from her other pocket. Myka think that they need their own bag of tricks like Artie has. The few times they've used Artie's bag it proved to be highly useful though it is a rather large item to carry around. Myka bites down on her lower lip and pulls up the floorplan for the building on the tablet; swiping through the layout for the main hallway, for the the layout on the lower level storage where tomorrows auction places are being kept until their time under the gavel.

Pete makes a face, "So yet another Hitchcock artifact grab for us?"

Myka swipes her fingers over the tablet's screen to zoom in on the floorplan for the storage room, "Yep."

"I still say the dude needs his own aisle already." Pete whines which draws Myka's attention away from the tablet's screen. "Care to share what it is? Because I still didn't get around to checking that pesky snoozefest file."

"Carlotta's necklace from 'Vertigo'."

Pete chuckles, "You shouldn't keep souvenirs of a killing."

Myka smiles because she gets the joke or rather a quote from the movie. Myka doesn't laugh though because Pete usually laughs enough for the both of them and this time is no exception.

"Pete!"

"Aww, come on it’s a quote from the movie Mykes...you know 'Vertigo'?"

Pete sighs in frustration at what he still perceives as Myka's apparent lack of getting his humor. Myka has seen 'Vertigo' several times. It's just that she wants to focus on the mission and less on the fruitless endeavor of preventing him from goofing off too much. At least after the Telegraph whammy he isn't quite so tactile but Myka still wouldn't be the least bit surprised if he licked an artifact one of these days. He licked the damn Farnsworth after all so Myka doesn't see something like that not happening one of these days. Myka hopes that Steve or Claudia is with him when it happens instead of her though.

Myka's trench coat suddenly seems stifling but lately she hasn't been feeling a hundred percent which she will deal with that issue in due time. Myka nods at Pete as they come to stand in front of the security door that leads to the storage area. Pete reaches into her trench coat pocket and pulls out the decryptor. After plugging in the Warehouse device it quickly deactivates the security locks on the door. Myka reaches up with her free hand and wipes the slight accumulated sweat off her forehead before Pete notices. He tucks the decryptor into his coat pocket and opens the door. Myka follows just behind him into the storage room. The light from the tablet reflecting off her face also provides enough light to see in the darkness.

Pete hits the light switch beside the doorway and the harsh florescent lighting kicks on without pause, "Easy as my prom date in the eleventh grade."

Myka so could be offended by his choice of words as a woman. But she already knows that pretty much everything that tumbles out of his mouth in my presence is meant to make me laugh or annoy me into it, "Classy."

Myka pushes past him while using Claudia's tablets to access Bonham’s storage inventory to find the target that much faster. Myka thinks that Claudia really is a world class hacker in a league of her own making. She's great at repurposing things too.

Pete whistles and the sound is bordering on shrill, "Man this place reminds me of the Warehouse a bit. But only because of the shelves of random crap."

"Expensive crap." Myka grins and powers down the tablet because she found the location of the artifact with it that they're here to swap out. "It's six aisles back and on the third shelf from the bottom, Pete."

Pete does a gesture as if tipping an imaginary hat, "Righty ho, this way we go?"

Myka rolls her eyes at him and considers punching him again. But she doesn't since at the moment she's not feeling like it. It takes less and three minutes to walk those six rows and Myka wonders if anything else this place has could be an artifact and if one day they might be back to snag something else here. Myka stops in front of the necklace as Pete ambles on past it. Myka would swear in open court that Pete's attention can really only be held by food or women's body parts.

"Pete, it's back here."

Pete turns around with a smile on his face and casually walks back toward me while reaching into his inner jacket pocket, "So what does this necklace do anyways that’s so dangerous?" Pete snaps on some purple gloves. "It just looks like some pretty bling to me."

Myka briefly grins, "It makes anyone who wears it for that matter commit suicide within twenty four hours." Myka slips the small tablet into her trench coat pocket and then reach into the inside pocket of my trench coat and pulls out a set of purple gloves too. "But I also imagine touching it is probably just as bad."

Pete frowns and nods his head, "That dude really knew how to make artifacts, huh? They all sound so fun in that extra special Hitchcocky-I'm-about-to-catch-a-case-of-sudden-death kind of way."

Myka smirks and then carefully removes the replica necklace from the purple velvet satchel that she was carrying in her other inner pocket to replace the real one on the shelf. Myka holds the fake up next to the real one and there's no telling them apart really. She shakes her head because for the most part she doesn't want to know how Artie makes these fakes. Or rather what artifacts he uses to accomplish the task since that's the only explanation.

Pete carefully removes the real necklace and then he clears his throat and cocks an eyebrow, "Nurse…static bag."

* * *

"Do you think HG ever misses merry old England?" Pete teases before shaking the nonexistent remains of his bag of peanuts in his wide open mouth.

"I don't know." Myka rubs at her forehead and then leans her head back against the headrest. Pete's still busy chewing the peanut dust that fell out of the packet. "And can we please not talk about her for the rest of the flight?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Myka sees Pete looking at her strangely but for once he doesn't try to talk around his food. At least a minute passes before Myka turns to look out the window of the airplane. Myka doesn't get vibes but all the same she just has a feeling that her partner and best friend just saw right through her a second time in so many months. In her defense though, Myka's tiredness has made her less than aware of being more careful with her words. Or as Claudia would say: 'My filter is corrupted.' Myka shifts in her seat at the feeling of Pete's eyes on her. She knows that he's trying to decide what he wants to say and it seems that since Myka told him about her cancer he has been more open with his emotions as well.

The sound of the peanut bag being crumpled up in his hand prefaces Pete lowly clearing his throat, "Mykes, you don't have to look at me, in fact it’s easier if you don't." Myka feels her eyes start to burn and he's barely said anything. So Myka keeps staring out the darkened window of the airplane. "But you do know you need to accept that HG's never coming back."

Myka bites on her lower lip because even when you know what's coming it doesn't make it any easier to swallow. And neither the distraction of the night sky passing under the wing of the plane or the tender tone of Pete's voice doesn't lessen the blow that those words have inflicted on her. Myka watches as some now blurry clouds pass under the wing; illuminated by the moon, and then she sees Pete's reflection in the glass and he's looking right at her.

Pete sighs, "I still wish like hell though that HG could see what she's passing on. But I also think she doesn't deserve what you have to offer. Not anymore."

Pete almost whispered those last words and the tears Myka has been holding back begin to overflow. Myka turns around in her seat to face him even though she knows getting this emotional makes him uncomfortable, "Pete...I...I know I need to move on and believe me I'm trying. But with everything else on top of it." Myka flounders for a second as her throat constricts more. "I had hoped you wouldn't notice or at least not mention it anymore."

Pete shakes his head and grips both armrests briefly, "You're my partner Mykes and after Boone I feel stupid that I didn't notice how you felt about HG before. I mean you both weren't very subtle. You flirted over a tracking device thingy for Christ sakes!"

Myka laughs lightly even through a sniffle, "Yes we did."

As the truth in that small confession washes over Myka, she suddenly can't help but be taken back to that moment. The way Helena's voice so warmly regarded Myka's cleverness and how her fingertips faintly grazed Helena's hand as she dropped the transmitter into Helena's palm. Myka recalls how she wanted Helena to stay at any cost that Myka would pay in the future and she did in fact pay. Looking back, Myka knows that was when she realized how bad she had it for her, as Pete would say.

"This torch you're still carrying for HG isn't healthy." Pete's voice snaps Myka out of her memories of Russia and back to the present and their conversation. "And with your diagnosis you need to..."

"Damn it, Pete!" Myka feels her face flush from her outburst. Thankfully, it's not a full flight but they are hardly alone. Myka sighs and tries not to think about the fact that anyone that heard her is likely thinking that Pete just propositioned her to join the Mile High Club. "I told you I'll start the treatments when I'm good and ready."

Pete faintly grins and then Myka sees tears forming in his warm brown eyes, "I know that and I'm not pushing you, I swear." Pete takes a deep breath and then forces a smile. "Unlike Helena though, I couldn't stand losing you and I don't even think of you that way. You're my best friend and my family Mykes and I won't let go of that. I can't."

Myka forgets that they're in public and reaches for Pete and then pull him into a tight hug. She doesn't do this with him but now is different, "You're my family too." Myka tastes her tears that have run down to touch my lips. "But do you think maybe you and Steve can take the next ping or two?"

Pete chuckles before moving out of our embrace, "Sure, I don't think Artie will gruff about it too much. But Claude might when I take her brother from another mother away."

Myka smiles and wipes at the tears on both of her cheeks with both hands, "Just tell her I need her because I really do now."

"Whatever you need Mykes and whoever you need."

Myka grins and perhaps there is still some hope buried within her that every thing will work out for her. That this health scare will just be a footnote in her life. Helena deserves to be a footnote but Myka knows better. Helena coming into her life was like something out of a book. A real time traveler. A Victorian woman who thought herself a villain but was more a tragic character. A modern anti-hero. Such a person can never be reduced to the fine-print in Myka's life no matter how long it lasts or doesn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The 2014 Soundtrack: "My Curse" by Killswitch Engage, "London Calling" by The Clash, "Bloke" by Republica & "Always" by Killswitch Engage
> 
> The 2021 Re-write Soundtrack: "Fear" by Blue October & "My Blood" by Twenty One Pilots


	7. (~Phase Seven: 3/4 Moon~)

* * *

Myka doesn't bother with worrying about what time it is anymore or what month it is for that matter. Every day feels like it's taking forever now. And if Myka lives beyond her agony she's vowed to live how she wants to this time, even without Helena, because she's waited and pined away for someone who doesn't want her for long enough. Myka has accepted that indulging her feelings on what can never be isn't anymore healthy than the cancer that’s trying to kill her. Neither one is a merciful death. Seeing that Helena had moved on ripped a hole in her, so Myka has logically come to the conclusion that she needs to move on too.

That is if she survives and if not at least she'll be free from it all. It’s been seven months since Pete and Myka pulled out of that driveway. Myka couldn't have imagined that H.G. Wells' realized idea of a modern utopia would look so mediocre? Another plus Myka has rationalized is that if she dies then she won't be tempted to bother Helena anymore. Myka wants to stop thinking about her. The majority of the memories are far from happy and they certainly don't lessen her physical pain. Not like the morphine does.

A warm squeeze on Myka's right hand forces her out of her troubling thoughts, "Did you hear me?" Claudia squeezes Myka's hand again and Myka turns her head and smile weakly at her other little sister. Myka frowns slightly because now Claudia has her older sister for real now back in her life, Claire. "Myka please talk to me... just tell me you're alright even if it’s a total fracking lie."

Myka grins and even though she wasn't there for it she can still see that Claudia has changed so much since the Paracelsus incident. Myka hates that she wasn't there for the whole ordeal but then it likely wouldn't have made any difference if she had been. The change in Claudia hasn't been completely for the worse though; Claudia's humor is still firmly intact. Myka is grateful that such a thing cannot be dimmed in her young friend.

Myka licks her lips; they're dry and cracked and she doubts asking for some Chapstick would yield any results, "I'm good Claude considering things. I actually think using a bedpan is kinda fun."

Claudia chuckles half-heartedly, "That’s not even funny, Myka."

Myka closes her eyes and squeezes Claudia's hand, "Comedy isn't my thing. You're the expert and well Pete just tries too hard all the of the time."

Claudia laughs and Myka opens her eyes at the sound and then turns her head on the pillow enough to see tears gather in Claudia's eyes, "Just so you know you don't get to check out on me either. I brought Steve back and..." A small sob falls out of Claudia and Myka's heart just hurts. "You can beat this. Remember I'm here to motivate you in those weak moments for when you get in your head like you might not."

Myka smiles even as a sharp pain hits her in the lower abdomen. Witnessing Myka's distress Claudia lets go of Myka's hand and then grabs the morphine trigger from where she moved it from Myka's grasp to lie on the bedspread. Myka immediately succumbs to the soothing coolness slithering through her veins to dull the aches in a manner of seconds. Myka's body relaxes and then it feels she's slipping into a warm inviting bath. It's hard to say awake after the morphine kicks in. Myka welcomes the oblivion with metaphorical open arms.

Myka's eyes flutter closed, "Thanks Claude."

* * *

"Do you still miss HG?" Claudia's voice is a combination of careful and fond. Myka immediately arrives at the conclusion that it was all too obvious to everyone but her and Helena. Or maybe it was and they both are guilty of ignoring it. Either way Myka isn't bothered by everyone knowing. "Because I miss HG. You know I always thought she was pretty cool for an old Victorian lady...and she saved my life to boot. Never mind her being a famous author and a badass inventor. She built a time machine a rocket in the 1890's!"

Myka smiles because of course she too thinks that Helena is brilliant, amazing and just an incredible human being aside from how she behaves in regards to her personal relationships. Nonetheless, Myka has not real words to describe how grateful she is to this day that Helena was around to save Claudia back then in California. Myka couldn't have made that antidote. The best Myka could've done was to prevent Claudia from falling into that vat full of the artifact-laced energy drink.

Myka smiles warmly, "Sometimes I miss her." There's a pause and Myka surprises herself with what she's about to disclose as she leans back into the wicker chair on the patio of the B&B. "But not like I used to."

"So you're not in love with her anymore?"

Again Claudia's voice is careful but direct as always. Myka sees no merit in deflecting. She's going to stick to her guns; her promise that she made to herself after her first treatment, "I'm trying not to be."

Myka lifts her cup of peppermint tea to her lips and takes a sip. It usually helps to settle her stomach but the tea hasn't really been able to settle much after her latest round of chemo. Myka's hair has already started to fall out even though she's just barely started her treatments. Just the thought of the long road ahead of her is depressing.

"Why?" To Claudia it's the simplest question in the world for Myka to answer when it in fact it's nothing but complicated. Myka's hand trembles slightly so she sets her cup of tea down and then looks directly at Claudia across the small table. Trying to silently convey how painful the answer truly is. "Myka, I mean...okay yeah I get it. You have other things on your mind now and HG's off playing Betty Sue Crocker lost in suburb-blandia." Claudia frowns and leans back on her chair. "I just don't get it what’s so hard about it all beyond the possibility that you two made it that way."

A faint smile pulls at Myka's lips. It's almost perversely funny how people looking at her situation from the outside see it as easy. But from the inside looking out it was never anything to her but many subtle and unsubtle layers of obstacles mixed with flirting and sprinkled with deception. Myka sighs and pulls at the small and worn blanket closer around against the cool autumn air now stirring around the patio their sitting on out behind the B&B.

"Helena..." Myka starts while not really knowing how much she wants to talk about this in depth with Claudia. Myka chooses to condense it down to its purest form. "She doesn't love me back." The admission stings Myka every time to admit it out loud. She didn't outright confess that detail when she talked with Pete about Helena. So it feels very different to say it and not just think it. "But she loved Christina which is the only reason I can find for her attachment to the little girl Adelaide. She wants to be there for Adelaide because she reminds Helena of Christina." Myka takes a deep breath and forces the rest out since she might as well. "There not much between HG and the girl’s father Nate. I mean I looked and I couldn't see anything which is sad really when you think about. For him."

Myka is going to leave out the unspoken but understood part where she says that she knows that Helena is sleeping with him. Feelings or no feeling. Because no man, and Myka doesn't care how 'normal and decent' they are, will just up and let a woman live with them unless she's putting out. Myka lives in the real world and in the real world there is no free rides and that goes doubly so for relationships.

Claudia grimaces, "Well that's all kinds of fucked up, Myka."

"What?"

Claudia abruptly shifts in her seat and begins gesturing wildly, "No, no, no...not you. I mean HG! Seriously, why couldn't sister-friend just stay here and work at the Warehouse and then just adopt a kid if she wanted one so badly. You know like a normal person?" Claudia makes a face as if the thought just hits her out of nowhere that she's talking about the H.G. Wells. The sight causes Myka to grin. "I'm sure the Regents would've helped if she'd asked. Though she'd be better off starting with a pet and then going from there, just sayin'."

Myka smiles sadly as Helena's words on the subject replay over in her thoughts. Myka fear they may be ingrained there, "HG said that she wanted a life far away from the Warehouse." Myka reaches up and rubs at an itch on the side of her nose. "She was perfectly clear on that subject when I brought it up."

Claudia narrows her eyes and shakes her head, "Give up endless wonder for what, a normal life? Even normal people don't want their lives. It's just the only option that most have." Claudia shrugs up her shoulders. "I still don't get it, Myka."

Myka glances away from Claudia towards the red-tinged horizon as they sun begins to set on this side of the Earth, "Me either."

"And yet you're still in love with her."

Claudia's statement of fact immediately forces Myka's attention off the fading view, "Yes." Myka's cell phone begins to ring and vibrate on top of the table between her and Claudia. Myka considers not answering it because with one glance at the screen she sees that it's an unknown number. Myka is not in the mood for telemarketers but she might be interested in how they got her number. "But when the time comes I'm moving on."

Myka's cell phone keeps ringing and just before the voice mail kicks in to take a message, she moves a hand out from under her blanket and snatches the ringing phone off the table. Myka barely gets out a 'hello' before the surprise of hearing Helena's marvelously accented voices washes over her. It's enough to put Myka on the defensive with no hesitation. Helena even has the audacity to flirt and Myka can't seem to end the call fast enough without being too rude. Myka finds it strangely comforting that Claudia is sitting there with her in this moment. Myka finally ends the call and then throws her cell phone down on the table; it skids along the surface until Claudia stops it with her hand. Myka sighs and pulls her hands back under the warmth of her old blanket. Claudia is silent but Myka knows that's a temporary state.

"Look, I can pretend that wasn't HG calling if that's what you want." Claudia sighs and then rolls her eyes. "Who am I kidding, no I can't. Just...talk to me Myka, why did you tell her 'no' besides the obvious reason of you not being a hundred percent now." Claudia spins Myka's phone around on the table top. "I mean does HG even know?"

Myka suddenly feels completely exhausted from all the emotions at just hearing Helena's voice stirred up, "Helena doesn't know and I don't want her to." Myka lifts her gaze to meet Claudia's just in time to recognize her expression of an incoming protest. "I have you, Pete, Artie, Steve and my other family and that’s all I need right now. It’s all I can take."

Claudia smiles sadly and her eyes gloss over with tears as she abandons the cell phone and reaches across the table. Myka draws one hand out from the warmth of her blanket and grips Claudia's hand, "Okay." Claudia rasps out while squeezing Myka's hand in hers. "We'll keep it in house and on the down low. Me, Jinksy, Pete and Grumps aren't going anywhere."

* * *

Myka can't even find peace in her dreams even though they are just dreams. Reality would never be so kind. Myka wishes that she could blame the medication and the poisons in her body, but she doesn't have the luxury of using that as a crutch anymore. Myka is happy about that development at least. Aside from that one damn phone call from Helena for coffee. Myka changed her number a few days later so Helena wouldn't be able to call her again without getting creative. Myka meant what she told Claudia those months ago about Helena and it’s even more true now that she's cancer free.

Myka's exhales loudly and then turns over in her bed. There is no comfortable position to be found tonight. Myka closes her eyes and reaches up to run a hand through her short hair. She wants it long again because lately she feels like a man with boobs. What few times Myka has been out she puts on the only wig that she owns. Claudia bought it for her after Myka's good news of remission. The wig resembles the color of Myka's natural hair but more wavy and far less a riot of unruly curls. At first, Myka didn't know what to make of the wig but then she embraced it with encouragement from her Warehouse family.

"Myka, there is something important I would like to ask you to do for me." Helena's lovely voice is like bathing in a warmth that would shame the sun. Doesn't hesitate or she means not to but Helena doesn't give her time to answer what is apparently a rhetorical question. "Will you please stop loving me because I don't love you in a romantic way. I never have and yet I do apologize for any misunderstandings between us. I fear I'm just naturally a bit of a flirt."

Myka has never had anyone speak to her like this. A gun pressed against her head or heart would be kinder than this, "How can you say that to me after all these years Helena? I thought you…I mean I always felt we had this connection..."

Helena smiles, "My dear Myka, I'm afraid you've been projecting. Seeing what isn't there out of some misplaced affection. I've spoken nothing but the truth. Did I not tell you already not to run away from your truth?"

Myka jerks awake with the sensation of tears drying on her cheeks. Myka closes her eyes and clenches her hands into fists so tight she hears the bones pop. 'Love isn't worth this kind of misery.' She says quietly in the darkness of my bedroom. Myka has come to the conclusion that love is actually worse than cancer because like cancer, love spreads into places that no amount of time can ever heal. It's like a permanent infection or virus that doesn't have the good graces to be subtle and to know when enough is enough. Myka buries her face into her pillow and wills herself to fall back into a dreamless sleep this time.

* * *

Claudia and Myka make their way past the doorman and down a black-lighted passageway into a German themed goth club: 'Die Mitternacht Fetisch', which means 'The Midnight Fetish'. Strangely, Myka feels little at ease here in her current mood. Pete hasn't really come around since she got better, their friendship has changed, but then again it had to because Myka's not exactly the same person as she was before. How can she be? It's a given though that they still laugh and Myka still punches him when he says something stupid. But there is a maturity to Pete now that wasn't there before and Myka supposes she's just a touch angrier than she used to be. Myka fears that Pete has developed some feelings for her that aren't friendship based. Myka is trying her best not to encourage Pete's feelings if they have slanted in that direction. Today Myka feels good. The best she has felt in months.

Myka was cleared for field duty again, though limited, which is why she is here. Her strength is almost back to a hundred percent thanks to pushing herself and she actually has enough of her own hair to pull back into a very short and frizzy 'pony nub' as Claudia calls it. Myka still wears her wig though outside of the comfort of the B&B and the Warehouse. Myka will miss the wig when it's usefulness has passed but only because it's hair is more manageable than Myka's real hair. The music is decently loud in the club going by how muted it sounds in the passageway where Myka and Claudia are standing. Claudia's Farnsworth did it's angry buzz and so far Myka has been entertained by Claudia and Artie having a little verbal sparring as per usual. Myka has missed it. Artie's grouchy nature can be funny when it's directed at someone else.

Claudia scoffs loudly, "Yes, well... Papa Eyebrows my mantra for tonight is: 'Gothlings run in fear, cause the Donovan is here'."

Myka bites down on her lower lip to keep from laughing at Claudia's antics. With her two cents stated Claudia snaps her Farnsworth closed before Artie can get the last word, "Myka, I'm going to talk to the club owner. That is if you don't mind me taking point on this? Since that's what the professionals call it."

Myka smiles, she's so proud of the agent Claudia has become. Myka remembers fondly how their first assignment all those years ago played out. Myka could have teased Claudia so badly about her being clearly uncomfortable in that locker room with those naked young men everywhere. But Myka didn't; she didn't even tell Pete about that fun detail either and she never will.

Myka grins, "Sure thing Claude, I'll just make my rounds around the club."

Myka's not bothered by the restrictions of limited duty or Claude taking the lead. Frankly, Myka is just glad to be back in the field and a simple snag and bag is just right for getting back on the horse as the saying goes. Myka pulls her black trench coat tighter around her body as they walk into the club and through the gathered crowd just off the dancefloor. Myka smells so many flavors of bad perfume and equally smelly cologne that mingled with the sweat in the air to produce a scent that makes her nauseous alarmingly quick. Myka takes a deep breath and then holds it as she moves towards to what she hopes is the women’s bathroom.

Myka tries to not knock into the goth clubbers elbow's as she moves through the crowd of thick eyeliner-lovers as quick as she can. Thankfully, the crowd seems to be entranced with the drugs their on, so Myka is not burdened with shouting 'pardon me' even once over the music. Myka shoves on the bathroom door with her elbow and it bangs on the wall from the force. The bathroom looks empty and surprisingly cleaner than she would have imagined. But then again, Myka would hardly call phone numbers scrawled into the wall with a Sharpie pen letting you know that if you're looking for a good fuck give this number a ring, along with crude drawings of genitals, penises mostly, as immaculate. At the very least it doesn't smell like a used septic tank.

Myka steps over to the nearby sink and turns the cold water on which sputters and then trickles out from low water pressure. Myka looks up at herself in the mirror; at what's refelcting back at her in dingy club lighting. Myka thinks she is too pale but the warm brown coloring of the wig with its auburn highlights and its long length manage to make her look like anything but sickly. Myka leans over and runs both of her hands under the stream of water for a few seconds; allowing them to soak up the coolness, before shaking her hands of the excess and then pressing them to her face. It's poor substitute for a cold compress but it's better than nothing. Myka's nausea begins to settle with each passing moment.

"Are you alright, honey?" A female voice laced with a slightly odd accent inquires and Myka moves her hands off her face and stands up straight. Looking in the mirror Myka sees that the other woman standing in the doorway of one the four bathroom stalls. "I heard the door and I thought it was two people coming in here to fuck."

Myka clears her throat while a blush starts to crawl over her face, "I'm fine."

Myka tries to cover her reaction by reaching for a paper towel from the dispenser only to find it empty. In her frustration, Myka rubs her damp hands down the sides of her pants. Glancing up at the other woman, Myka notices that she's amused by the reaction. Not surprisingly, the other woman is clothed in black from neck to toe. Myka's eyes roam over the other woman's ensemble of black high heels and then up toned legs that are covered in sinfully tight leather pants. Myka manages to slow down her appreciation at the sight of the corset style top, complete with laces, that the other woman is wearing out in public. Myka makes the mistake of meeting the other woman's gaze and she quickly notes that the other woman's eyes are green to. Only hers are even more alive and enhanced by artfully applied eyeliner.

The woman smiles as she leans against the bathroom stall, "You don't look fine. But you definitely are...fine."

Myka feels her face heat up even more, "Thank you, I think."

Myka wants to smack herself at the words that just tumbled out of her mouth. If a man had said that to her then she would have seriously considered walking away from him. But oddly, coming from this strange woman it rings differently to Myka and she doesn't bother to question why in this moment. The other woman moves closer to Myka, who is still standing at the sink basins, wondering for the life of her why she's still lingering in the grungy bathroom. Myka stands there enraptured by the other woman and her long straight black hair. She's not as tall as Myka is even with her impressive heels.

The other woman merely sidles close to Myka to wash her hands and when she's done she looks at Myka and grins, "I guess I'll have to dry my hands on my pants too." Myka doesn't see how that's going to work considering that the other woman's pants are leather. "So what exactly are you doing in this shithole club and equally shithole bathroom tonight?"

"Just out with a friend."

The other woman nods as she tries to rub her hands dry against her leather clad thighs, "Well, I can tell you're far too classy to actually want to come here for kicks." She intones in an accent that is low and somewhat seductive while moving marginally closer towards Myka. "But that's not really any of my business, so I won't try to pry any more info out of you."

Myka suddenly wants to laugh at her current situation and apparently she does because it prompts a laugh from her companion. Myka watches as the other woman approaches her. Myka feels no compulsion to stop. Myka thinks it might be tragically funny how almost dying lowers a person inhibitions or rather brings things that they ignored more sharply into focus. 

The other woman presses her body against Myka's and cranes her neck up to meet Myka's bewildered gaze, "You look almost as sad as you are beautiful." The other woman is so close that Myka smells the faint traces of alcohol on her breath. "I promise I won't hurt you and if you let me." The other woman slowly moves her hands under Myka's coat to grip her waist. "Maybe I can make you forget what’s making you sad if only for a little while."

Myka not sure why she's just letting a complete stranger talk her up and touch her. Myka is beyond her reasoning capabilities right now and for the first time she doesn't care. Myka's eyes flutter closed at the sensation of the other woman's body pressing into hers; the warmth touching something in Myka that has grown cold. Myka then feels the other woman's lips timidly sliding against her. It’s been such a long time since Myka's kissed anyone or been kissed. To think that she was more or less saving it all for Helena; denying herself the simplest of things, and for what? Myka waited for someone who was never going to show up. Myka made herself available to someone who didn't want her. Helena. And just like that the thought of her name alone makes Myka want to stop. What the fuck is she doing anyway? And with that thought Myka finally pulls away from the stranger’s skilled and what tastes like rum-flavored mouth.

Myka steps back out of their loose embrace, "I'm sorry but I can't do this." Myka sighs and adjusts her coat which is slightly skewed. "I left my friend out there and I really need to go find her."

The woman licks her lower lip and smiles, "Alright, no pressure. And I'm really not the type of girl to force myself on anyone."

Myka tilts her head and looks at the other woman skeptically which makes her laugh in return. It's a good laugh too because it causes Myka to smile, "Well, I didn't exactly do anything to you that you clearly didn't want." The other womam teases as she reaches up so her hands can play with the collar of Myka's trench coat. "And I can offer you so much more, if that’s something you decide you want the next time I see you? I would like to see you again."

Myka smirks and lower her eyes which causes her to notice the stained floor beneath her feet that looks like it hasn't seen a mop in a year or more, "I don't even know your name."

"My friends call me Stella." The other woman intones playfully without missing a beat; her hands finally dropping away from Myka's coat. "And you are?"

"Myka."

Stella smiles brightly, "Cool name, it suits you." Myka feels another blush coming on but then the other woman steps away from her and moves towards the door to leave the bathroom. She pauses though before opening it. "And hopefully I'll see you around sometime, Myka."

Myka watches her exit with amusement for three reasons alone. One, she had no idea any woman would ever be attracted to her. Two, She won't be seeing her again but Stella didn't need to know that. Myka thinks the other woman won't even remember her name when she wakes up tomorrow morning. And three, Myka's still got a job to do for now and for ever how long she's able to do it. The Warehouse is all she had right now and the wonderful people that she works with who are her family now. As Myka leaves the bathroom she resolves to never tell or hint to anyone about her little hook-up in the ladies bathroom, ever. She would never live it down if Pete got wind of it since she calls him a slut more often than not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The 2014 Soundtrack: "Cancer" by My Chemical Romance, "Goldilox" by King's X, "Vermillion Pt. 2" by Slipknot & "The Undertaker" by Puscifer
> 
> The 2021 Re-write Soundtrack: "Goodbyes" by Post Malone & "Crossing A Line" by Mike Shinoda


	8. (~Phase Eight: Waning Crescent~)

* * *

Myka can always find peace, knowledge or an escapist adventure in a good book. It’s a lazy warm sunny day in the middle of nowhere South Dakota but Myka feels far from sunny on the inside. Her body is finally at the energy levels she had before the cancer, but her mind is still just flat out tired. It's been a rough couple of months to cap off an equally rough year. Myka chose to stay home today since it's her day off. Pete and Steve are out on a mission that popped up, Claudia is meeting with the Regents and Artie is where he can always be found and that's at his office and home, the Warehouse.

A yawn forces its way out of Myka and after a few more attempts to lose herself within the pages of her book, she reluctantly admits that she will not be able to enjoy the fictitious world that lies in pages today. Myka marks her place in the book with an old bookmark and then lays the book down on her lap. Myka sighs and stretches out her legs on the sofa and then closes her eyes to rest them. The B&B is extremely sedate but Myka likes that. The only disruptions to the languid state are pleasant and occasional birdsong carrying through the solarium or the house's foundations providing a sparse groan or creak.

The B&B is still the same, but not, the comfort and welcoming warmth that accompanied Leena is gone. Myka misses her every day and she knows it will be a sad day for her when she doesn't. Myka can't see that happening though as long as she is alive to remember Leena. Abigail has been a wonderful addition to their team and not a replacement. Abigail has been very helpful during Myka's recovery and everyone else's for that matter. So much has happened to them all in such a short time and reliving any of it in Myka's mind, even for a few seconds, makes her feel years older than she actually is. As hollow as Myka feels sometimes, she's also beginning to heal, not just from her illness, but her other malady known as Helena.

A shiver runs over Myka, likely caused by where her mind has run off to, even in the warm room. Myka frowns and slinks down into the sofa cushions more. Obviously, her bed is the ideal place to sleep or relax but Myka doesn't want to stay buttoned up in her room when she has the whole house to herself. Comfort achieved, Myka opens her eyes and reaches for the book on her lap to give it another try. But then just as Myka is about to move her bookmark out of the way she hears a series of soft knocks at the front door. Myka sighs as she gets up off the sofa and then gingerly lays her book down on the coffee table. Myka adjusts her shirt while walking down the hallway toward the front door. The knock persists as Myka is processing what she will say if it's someone wanting a room, she opens the door and the sight waiting on the other side warms her heart.

Myka smiles, "Hello."

"Hi, I'm Ashley." The cutest little blonde ten-year-old girl Myka's ever seen intones with a smile. "I'm with the Girl Scouts and I have Mr. Lattimer's cookie order."

Myka opens the door wider, "Well, he isn't here right now. But I'll pay for them."

The girl shrugs, "Okay." Myka grins and the sight of the young girl going over an impressive-looking list attached to a green acrylic clipboard in her hands. "Three boxes of Thin Mints, two boxes of Chocolate Chip Shortbread, two boxes of Peanut Butter Patties and one box of Thank You Berry Munch." Myka can't keep from chuckling at the girl’s rather adult tone which prompts the girl to look up from her clipboard for a moment. "Which is eight boxes total. The order amount comes to thirty two dollars even."

Myka smiles wider as she notes the girl's numerous badges on her sash; her Cookie Connection, Money Sense badge front and center, Myka instantly deduces why Pete purchased so many cookies. Other than the obvious reason being that he will eat each and every one of them on his own. If Myka ate like Pete she'd spend her days being sick from gluttony. Myka reaches into her pants pocket and pulls out all the cash she has. She was planning on going out in a while to get some take-out but that’s out of the question now. Pete is so paying her back. Myka straightens out her folded-up money, all forty dollars of it, and counts out thirty two. Myka shakes her head at the notion of Pete eating over thirty dollars worth of cookies.

The enterprising Girl Scout, Ashley takes the money from Myka and puts it into a dark green zip pouch that looks like the type most businesses use to take money deposits to the bank. Ashley smiles and then turns around, "Mom! Bring the cookies, the lady here paid!"

Myka jumps at the sheer volume the girl managed while looking in the direction that Ashley shouted in. Myka notices an over-stuffed minivan pulling a small U-Haul. Myka hears a muffled response coming from the U-Haul and then she sees a tall woman; about her height, emerge carrying Pete's many boxes of cookies in her arms. Unfortunately, the boxes are stacked so that Myka can't see her face, only just the blonde top of the other woman's head.

"Ashley, you don't have to shout." A tired, yet pleasant sounding voice intones and Myka grins. "I'm not deaf you know."

My eyes wander up from black heels hidden under flared dark wash jeans that encase long legs and lead up to shapely hips. A blush creeps up to paint Myka's checking at the realization that she is checking the other woman out. Myka rolls her eyes; she's getting as bad as Pete, only now it's women that are getting her attention too not just a few men.

Nervously, Myka moves out of the doorway and past Ashley, closer to the woman carefully moving up the walkway towards the B&B, "Here, I'll take those." Myka reaches out to take some of the stacked boxes from the other woman. "I think you've carried them far enough."

Myka's hands accidentally graze the other woman's and Myka can't help but enjoy the faint warmth that transfers at the contact. With all of the boxes in hand, Myka turns and walks blindly back towards the open doorway. Once Myka spots the welcome mat under her feet she turns to the right and in a few more steps she sets Pete's cookie haul down on the wingback chair by the entrance. Myka quickly turns back around to face the two people waiting in the doorway and unexpectedly she feels a little self-conscious. The girl’s mother is beautiful and the crème white button-up shirt she is wearing accentuates all of her curves. Myka straightens her rather plain V-neck t-shirt, but at least its blue and Myka thinks she looks good in blue. Myka's hair is almost shoulder length now, but she still thinks she's too pale. Every time she looks in the mirror Myka wonders if she'll ever have any lasting color in her cheeks again.

Myka extends her hand towards the woman and smiles, "Hi, I'm Myka."

The other woman takes Myka's hand and she can't help but notice that the other woman's hand is so warm and soft in her. The other woman shakes Myka's hand, "Ava."

Myka shakes Ava's hand while being drawn in by her amber-brown eyes that almost seem to sparkle in the sunshine. Myka thinks that Ava appears to be the same age, maybe a year or two younger at most, and then as if just realizing what she's doing, Myka finally releases the other woman's hand, "Nice to meet you."

"Mom, I'm going to the car." Myka slightly startles because she'd momentarily forgotten that a child was around. A cranky one going by the sound of her voice. "I'm tired and this is our last stop. So I'll just be there waiting until you're done...flirting with her."

The subtle moment effectively shoved into the limelight, by a ten year no less, Myka can't help but blush while nervously smiling at Ava who also is sporting a growing blush. Meanwhile, Ashley just rolls her eyes at and pulls out her cell phone, "Nice to meet you, Myka." Ashley intones politely because that's just good business. "And tell Mr. Lattimer I'll still be selling cookies for the next two weeks if he wants more."

Ava smiles, "I swear she's ten going on twenty-three."

Myka laughs lightly and resist the maddening urge to play with her hair. Myka knows it's regarded as a sigh of sexual frustration and she's really not trying to advertise that to someone she just met.

Ava briefly turns at the sound of her daughter shutting the door to their mini-van, "So are you Pete's girlfriend?"

Myka's eyes go wide, "No! God no. We just work together."

Ava nods and faintly grins, "So you're an I.R.S agent too?"

Myka fidgets in the doorway, she has to maintain her ridiculous Warehouse produced cover, but there is nothing in the manual that says she can't flirt while doing it, "Yes, but I only investigate and audit the extremely filthy rich and their fraudulent claims."

Ava smiles broadly, "Well, you better audit you partner to make sure he pays you back."

"I intend too." Myka scoffs and then smiles nervously. "Because I would go broke trying to feed Pete."

Myka thinks that no truer words have passed her lips. She doesn't understand how Pete afforded to feed himself before he lived at the B&B where food is supplied along with a rent-free room.

"Look, Myka." Ava starts and then pauses to smile shyly. Myka thinks she looks cute like that. "I haven't done this in a while, so I'm just going to ask...would you like to have my number?"

"Yes." Myka smiles and places her hands on her hips. "And don't feel bad, I haven't really flirted or even went out with anyone in over two years now."

Ava laughs, "Lucky me then, we're both rusty and available."

Myka laughs and it feels really good to laugh again. Pete tries way too hard but he is still just her childishly annoying older brother more than anything else. Myka still wants to hit him with a chair sometimes when he gets on her last nerve. Ava gives Myka her cell phone number and Myka smiles as she puts the small piece of paper in the front pocket of her jeans. Myka watches after Ava as she strides down the walkway from the B&B. Ava turns around once and finds Myka looking at her and she gives Myka the biggest smile. Myka blushes and then runs a hand along the back of her neck. While Myka is trying to get her blush under control she sees Ava's daughter, Ashley tapping on her wrist in a gesture that usually means 'that took you long enough'. Myka laughs at the sight of it and as Ava starts pulling out from in front of the B&B, Ashley waves at Myka. In that moment it dawns on Myka that Ashley sold so many cookies that her mother had to rent a U-Haul. Myka laughs at her delayed observation and walks back inside the B&B and then closes the door behind her. Myka is still smiling as she moves down the hallway back towards the living room and her neglected book.

"She was very beautiful, Myka." At the sound of that voice Myka does a combination of startling and stopping dead in her tracks. That hauntingly familiar accent she occasionally hears in her thoughts when she dares to think about the past. "It's also rather apparent she likes you, and I cannot fault her for having excellent taste in women."

"Helena?" Myka shakes off her surprise and moves further into the living room where her unexpected visitor is waiting or lurking depending on how you look at it. "What are you doing here?"

"Visiting." HG smiles brightly; her charming accent bordering on lilting. "And taking the initiative in acquiring that promised coffee date?"

Myka lingers on the threshold of the living room; keeping some distance between her and who may or may not be the greatest love of her life. Myka watches Helena's lithe form stalk towards her and there's no doubt in Myka's that is what Helena is doing. Helena is clad in her casual dress of tight dark jeans, a light blue blouse with many buttons undone and a dark brown leather jacket and of course heeled boots. Myka has never understood how Helena makes casual look so elegant; it’s like every piece was tailored for her. Myka rolls her eyes at how quickly her thoughts have betrayed her and then she feels her good mood start to crumble.

Myka scoffs because she really doesn't give a damn about a forgotten promise anymore, "I see you're still breaking and entering."

Helena chuckles, "I used to live here, darling. So I don't think you can classify my actions as such."

Myka brushes past Helena in the living room. Myka catches a whiff of Helena's perfume; the same floral scent Myka smelled when she was pressed against Helena when she saved them both with her grappling hook all those years ago. Myka exhales through her mouth so she doesn't have to smell it anymore. But then Myka feels off-balance all of the sudden and she lean against the sideboard in the living room.

"Are you alright, Myka?"

Helena's warm hand lands on Myka's bare arm as she moves to stand in front of her. Myka looks right into Helena's concerned dark eyes, "I'm fine, just a misstep."

Myka gently moves her my arm out of Helena's grasp as the other woman looks her over. Myka knows right then that Helena has noticed the physical difference. Myka is under no illusions that her illness has left her with some mementos that have yet to fade but hopefully they will in time.

Helena smiles briefly, "You've cut your hair."

Myka laughs because of the notion that Helena thinks that her change in hairstyle has anything to do with mere vanity, "Something like that." Myka lowly clears her throat and looks away from Helena's piercing gaze. "Uh, no one's home now, which you already know...but would you like something to drink?"

Myka doesn't wait for Helena to accept or decline. It was a polite excuse to get away from her and as Myka enters the kitchen she thinks of Leena. Myka thinks that her calming presence will always linger within these walls just as strongly as anywhere. Myka opens the cupboard and removes all of the herbal teas there, along with two nice hummingbird print cups. The kettle is already setting on the stove with water in it so Myka turns the burner on underneath it. Earlier, Myka was going to make some tea but she changed her mind.

"May I offer any assistance?"

Helena's gentle question pulls Myka out of her daze and she turns to smile at her. "No." Myka pulls out two tea bags and then places them in the cups. "Thank you for the offer though."

"Very well, I'll just wait in the dining room then shall I?"

Myka absently nods at Helena's suggestion but all the same she glances over her shoulder to watch Helena walk out of the kitchen. Myka has always adored Helena's accent and manners. But that is neither here nor there. Myka is all too aware that Helena turned on the charm to dodge the simple and direct question Myka posed adn that was 'what is she doing here?'. Myka isn't so certain she wants the answer but throwing Helena out is not off the table just yet.

* * *

Myka takes a drink of her chamomile tea as she notices Helena smirking at her. Myka gives Helena a look but she only shrugs and then takes a drink of her own Earl Grey that she doctored up with milk and honey. The room is just as pleasantly serene as it was earlier, only now the sounds of the strong breeze add to the birds singing just off in the backyard, and both are subtly seeping into the room from the patio doors that Helena left ajar on her way inside. There's a tension in the air that is all too familiar to Myka but she is out of practice when it comes to handling it with deft hands. Helena offers Myka another playful smirk and that's when Myka decides that enough is enough.

Myka sits her tea down, "What?"

Helena smirks and shrugs up one shoulder, "I didn't know you harbored an interest in the fairer sex, Special Agent Bering?"

Myka frowns, "That’s really none of your business."

Helena smirks even more, "Just making conversation about a recent observation is all." Helena puts her tea down as well. For an instance Myka is a cross between irritated and charmed and she doesn't like it one little but. "But to get the ball rolling...I would like to say that I've missed you, Myka." There is only tenderness in Helena's voice and none of her usual roguish flirtation. "I've missed your smile, the sound of your laughter. As I recall I was rather good at making you laugh."

Myka shakes her head, "What are you playing at?"

Helena smiles sadly and then leans forward, her elbows coming to rest on top of the table, "Myka, roughly three months after I saw you last I decided to partake in some much needed therapy, for my own betterment. And after six months with the help of my doctor I was ready to forgive myself." Helena sighs and runs a hand through her hair. "Admit and embrace the feelings I've always had for you. But more importantly to learn how to say that I'm sorry for how poorly I treated you at every turn."

Myka suddenly feels like she's been punched. That she's been put down by the hit she never saw coming and she doesn't like that either, "Just like that, huh?" Myka smiles bitterly. "I won't be strung along again. I already let you do that to me. And then you disappeared again; orders be damned, and then I realized later on had that damn jawbone artifact not landed on your doorstep, I would've never known where you were."

Helena sighs again, "Myka, I did call you a few months ago if you recall, and you seemed...how should I put this, unwilling to even talk to me." Helena is annoyed now and a part of Myka is a pleased about it. "Then when I tried to contact you again I found that your number is no longer in service."

Myka bites down on her lower lip for a moment, "I had just started... you know what I was just...it wasn't a good time." Myka huffs and pushes a hand through her hair. "So forgive me if I wasn't awed that you finally took the time to call."

Helena frowns and leans back in her chair, "I have thoroughly earned less than gracious sentiments , I know that. But the Myka I know always offered forgiveness in ample measures."

Myka purses her lips and comes to the conclusion that maybe this will go faster if she treats it like pulling off a band-aide, "Why now? Because it’s Wednesday and you had nothing better to do?" Myka glares at Helena and she's angry all over again. Forget sadness. "I mean why can't you let me move on? You did. And correct me if I'm wrong but you told me that you wanted a life far away from everything Warehouse related." Myka knows that Helena isn't enjoying having those words thrown back at her but now Myka can't bring herself to give a shit. "Helena, I've realized that I don't need forever, there is no such thing anyway. All I really want is for someone to be nice to me for whatever time I have left. That's enough because I can't survive another great love."

The growing anger in Helena's dark eyes is apparent, "So you intend on pursuing this Ava woman then? And what do you mean by 'for whatever time you have left'?"

Myka shrugs, "Does it matter?"

Myka thinks it's fun to flirt, Helena is proof enough of that, but really Myka thinks that it would be nice to just make a new friend if nothing else. Ava could be such a person. But Helena doesn't need to know all that though.

"Yes, it does." Helena's voice is commanding, defiant even. "Myka, I came here to make things right, it has taken me a while, but I'm here. And I need to know that I'm not too late."

Once upon a time, Myka might've been foolish enough to concot such a moment in her thoughts. Even knowing that in real life such things don't happen. This kind of thing only happens in fiction. Helena's words are far from hollow but they leave Myka feeling empty all the same, "For what? I've already waited for you, Helena."

"Myka..."

Myka feels herself crack a little at the sound of Helena gasping her name, "No, don't. You know, I don't blame you Helena, because loving me back would've never been easy. Even in this time, humanity still hasn't evolved where it’s all that accepting of same-sex couples." Myka has pretty much given up on the idea of having a special someone even though a part of her is still holding onto hope. Myka is open to whoever they may turn out to be if she gets that lucky. "So I don't hold it against you for wanting something easy in your life." Myka takes a deep breath to say the rest of it, to let it all go. "When I was on the edge of dying I made my peace with how I felt about you. But before that I made peace with why you didn't want me."

Helena grimaces and stands up from her seat at the small dining room table, "You really must stop with indulging in the ridiculous belief that I don't want you. So tell me, which should we unpack first, love? That or the part where you explain when you were dying?" Myka feels like she's being scolded as though she were a child. "What else have you been withholding from me, for what I'm assuming was my own good? And to think it was you who lectured me on 'getting down off of my cross', as it were."

Myka nods her head and leans forward in her chair, "I survived cancer, Helena. Ovarian cancer to be exact and I admit I didn't want to for a while. I mean we all die and one way is just as good as another."

"Good Lord, Myka...what were you thinking?" Helena moves around the table, coming closer to Myka. "Why on Earth couldn't you be bothered to tell me?"

Myka almost breaks at the sound of Helena's voice, the hurt in it that Myka thinks she has no right to harbor anymore, "I didn't think you would care." Myka feels like she's being petty for a moment. Like some kind of scorned lover when she's not. "The last time I saw you...you were hurtful and couldn't wait to shove me out the door."

Helena's elegant fingers latch onto the back of the chair beside Myka, but instead of sitting down there, Helena moves back towards the living room and Myka turns in her chair to watch after her. Helena's shoulders have a more slumped quality and Myka starts to feel guilty, like she's being too hard on her. So Myka pushes back from the table and stands from her seat. Myka stalls, just watching, as Helena traces her fingers along the back of the sofa until she moves around to the front of it and gracefully sits down. Myka purses her lips and walks into the living room.

Helena sighs heavily, "I fear no apology I can conjure will ever relay my genuine sorrow."

Myka scoffs and it's so loud and brash it makes her feel like a bit of an asshole before she's even said her peace, "Wells, you have no idea of the sorrows we have endured here." Helena gazes up at Myka with an expression of pure sorrow. "Leena is dead. Artie shot her while he was under the influence of the Astrolabe after you disappeared with it. Pete and I had to save the world from the English sweating sickness and then this family of immortals freed a very bad and crazy man from the bronze sector, an alchemist named Paracelsus, who then took control of the Warehouse from Mrs. Frederick and then Claudia took it back from him by force."

Myka feels the urge to pace about the room instead of just taking this sitting down, "You know I didn't find out about the Warehouse caretaker dilemma until after I got out of the hospital." Myka huffs out an aggravated breath and forces herself to sit down but not on the sofa with Helena. The chair across from the sofa is close enough. "Pete told me how he messed up and accidentally let Paracelsus out of the suspension chamber because he was trying to find a way to save me. He was going to use an artifact even though he knows better!"

Helena visibly swallows and Myka thinks she looks far too contrite than she has any right to be, "I'm so sorry about Leena's passing. I learned of it after you'd left Boone, when I finally began therapy." Helena leans forward on the sofa; her hands coming to rest on her knees. "But I knew about the sweating sickness. How could I not? I felt it one day at work and I just knew you would...save us all."

Myka shakes her head and tries not to glare at Helena incredulously, "It's my job. One I'm proud to do."

Myka means to wound with her words. Helena's done it before. They both have if you count Yellowstone and Myka does. A heavy and stifling silence permeates the air for a few moments. Myka knows Helena is waiting for her to speak since she’s clearly organizing her thoughts. Or perhaps Helena's taking the blows that she feels she's earned.

Myka crosses her arms over her chest, "Why are you here now?"

Helena looks directly at Myka and the dark depths of her eyes threaten to pull Myka into their undertow, "As I said before I came here to apologize and to accept my offered post as a Regent." Myka notices tears collecting heavily in Helena's darkly expressive eyes. "But mostly I came back for you."

The finality in Helena's voice makes Myka's knees weak to the point that she's very glad that she's already sitting down. But Myka won't allow herself to be sucked into this, even though it’s not like she's completely free from her yet anyway. Myka inhales deeply and stands up from her seat, moving across the room to stand in front of Leena's, well Abigail's now, nurtured plants that are green, flourishing and warming in the light of the late afternoon sun. Myka closes he eyes against the warm glow on her face while at the same time she listens to soft steps drawing closer then they stop just behind her.

"Helena, I had to swallow my dignity and pride when I realized you didn't want me. Because I know there was a time when you did, but I just wasn't ready then, and when I was, well you..." Myka can't find it in her to finish that sentence because it’s like tearing open an old wound. "You know what...let’s put all that in the past where it belongs. I don't want to live there anymore."

"I'd wager that I've been living in the past for longer than you. Which is rather amusing to me now, because back in my time I longed for a future I knew I would never live to see." Helena's voice has that light, airy quality to it and Myka thinks not for the first time how great would it be if Helena did a reading of one of her stories. "And yet here I am, in the future, and all I've done with my time is have another go at trying to live in the past; more like haunting really, I've haven't been living at all." Myka hears Helena take another step closer. "And when you told me to make that place my home."

Myka flinches at the sound of Helena voice echoing those cowardly words that was spewed because that was what Myka believed Helena wanted to hear. Sometimes, during a weak moment, Myka wonders how she managed to tell Helena such an obvious lie. Myka remembers all too well how badly she failed at holding onto the tears in her eyes the whole damn time.

"Myka, I felt my heart twist in my chest almost violently. Did you, or rather do you not know that I wanted nothing more than for you to finally tell me with words how you feel about me?"

"Helena, just stop. I can't do this anymore, my heart can't take it. I've been in love with you for so long, even now I can't remember a time when I didn't love you." A part of Myka is leaning towards becoming irrationally angry that this is the situation where she is finally saying those three words. "But it's poisoned me and left me feeling like my heart was just made to be broken. So letting go, telling you good-bye when I really didn't want to took everything I had left." Myka turns around to face her tormentor. "I've never felt so much at once in my life, my heart broke harder for you than it did when Sam was killed. And I can admit that even he didn't make me feel the way you do, and that truth shook me to my very soul when I realized it."

Helena reaches up to clutch at her locket, "Myka please, my heart shattered that night too." Myka still has Helena's old locket that she picked up off the floor in that backroom of the restaurant in Hong Kong. "I never kept my promise to you. None of them. And to make matter worse I did say goodbye only without actually saying it. In place of all the anger I once harbored I regressed to fear."

Myka thinks that if this conversation goes on much longer it will kill her faster than any type of cancer, "Why now? I mean a year and a half ago you told me you were happy. That you had every thing you needed and nothing you didn't."

Helena moves closer to Myka, who fights against the urge to step back, "Myka I...fucked up. To use the crassest, yet wholly accurate words possible. When Artie told Mrs. Frederick, Leena and I about the Astrolabe; how I died in another timeline, it just hit me so terribly hard." Helena sighs and Myka is taken aback at the now glossy shine to Helena's dark, entrancing eyes. "And in the same breath I knew the only reason I would've sacrificed myself, my life, would be for you. To save you. It's why I couldn't use the trident all those years ago." Myka crosser her arms over her chest; trying smother out the sudden rapid thump of her heart. "Then I was ordered to disappear with the Astrolabe, not to contact anyone, so I went looking for a hiding place. I found one not only for the Astrolabe but for myself; a refuge to ease the loneliness I suddenly felt awash in. I found one or rather two persons to assuage new and old wounds."

Myka closes her eyes against the tears that are dying to pour out, much like Helena's confession. Myka wishes that all of Helena's choices didn't have to feel like a betrayal but they are. Myka isn't self enough to say that those feelings are tied up with her. Myka thinks that Helena is adept at betraying herself at the same time.

"I just...I never thought you would be interested in me, Myka. You believed in me when no one else did." Helena smiles briefly and Myka is once again struck by her incredible beauty. "You were my champion and I thought how could such an undeniably pure soul ever fancy a damaged one like mine?"

"Stop it." The tears escape Myka's eyes and fall down her face. "I'm no saint and do you really think that we can just forget all these years, all the hurt, and that there is some sunset for us to walk off into?" Helena looks wounded but Myka keeps going. "Let's just say I believe what you're saying. I have nothing to offer you anymore; I'm done with it all, used up. I..."

Myka's falls silent even in her thoughts quiet. Helena gently wipes at the tears trailing down from her eyes with her one of her thumbs. And at the sight of her distress Myka feels every fiber of her being urging her forwards. To remove the hurt between them. Myka sniffles and then uncrossing her arms and wipes at her face roughly before walking briskly out of the room. Away from Helena.

"Myka wait!"

Myka can barely see where she's going for the tears burning in her eyes. Myka has one space in this house that is hers and it’s her room; among the few possessions that offer her a comforting reminder of another place she once called home.

"Myka, please stop!"

Helena's loud and desperate sounding pleas follow close behind but Myka just can't give a damn. Why should sje? Myka is sure that guilt is Helena's real motivation for wanting to square things away with so she can move on with a clearer conscience. Myka has always been disposable to Helena. Walking quickly down the hallway towards her room, Myka wipes under her eyes again and she stops in front of her door and yanks it open. Myka quickly closes and locks it behind her. Myka takes a shuddering breath and moves towards her bed and sits down on the foot of it. Myka closes her eyes and covers her face with her hands to smother out the tears. The room is quiet but then Myka hears the distinct sound of her lock being picked. Myka's hands slip off her face and she opens her eyes to the sight of Helena sauntering into her room.

"What the fuck, Wells!"

Helena arches an eyebrow, "I did implore you to wait. But you disregarded my affable protests, and I will not be ignored this day."

Myka bites her lower lip, "Just leave me in peace, HG."

Helena clears her throat and then straightens her already impeccable posture, "No, I do not think I will, Myka. I refuse to let you slip through my fingers once more. The only real fear I have left is that I won't get another chance. And I simply will not let anyone take that away from me, not even you."

Myka suddenly arrives at the conclusion that being sad, angry and on the verge of swooning should be illegal. Helena slowly walks closer to where Myka is sitting on the foot of her bed until she is standing right in front of Myka. It's like all of the air has been sucked out of the room but there is still breath to be spent. Then with a rather open and adoring expression on her face, Helena squats down in front Myka and then timidly places her hands over Myka's that are resting on her knees.

Myka considers jerking her hands out from under Helena but she finds that she doesn't have the energy to follow through, "Helena, what are you doing?"

Helena smiles that bright smile of hers despite the tears still lingering in her eyes, "I should say it’s rather obvious, darling." Myka is reminded once again how charming Helena can be; how she can turn it on at will. "But the truth is this is something I should have done quite some time ago." Myka's heart speeds up at the sensation of Helena linking their hands together and then bringing our joined left hands up to rest over Helena's own rapidly beating heart. "Myka I...I loved you from the start. I know that now and freely admit I buried that strange and wonderful feeling many times over." Myka briefly closes her eyes against the tears that are stinging in them. "Because falling in love wasn't a part of my grand design. Not once did I consider emerging from the bronzer only to meet someone like you." A sob that Myka can't hold in any longer comes out of her and she turns her head away from Helena. "Please don't look away from me?"

Helena gives Myka a sad smile, "I used you to get into the Warehouse. I used you over and over again to get what I wanted. And I won't deny it now that I also took great satisfaction in knowing the hold I had over you." The urge to pull away from Helena is overwhelming for Myka but at the same time she feels Helena's heart thumping wildly under our joined hands. "I'm so sorry, Myka. I really don't deserve what you have to offer and it’s far greater than all I've ever given you. But I'm stubborn and selfish and I know that you still love me, as I still love you. We are a fixed equation, darling."

The finality in her voice combined with those eloquent words thunder in Myka's ears and rattle in her chest. Myka closes her burning eyes, to block out the vision of Helena kneeling there, looking so vulnerable and completely penitent. Helena still owns her heart and for better or worse it's unchangeable. Myka opens her eyes, "Fine, have it your way."

Myka escapes Helena's grasp and then grabs the other woman's face with both hands and smashes her lips against Helena's. Myka has no use for tender, she wants to show Helena how much loving her has cost and now someone has to pay. Helena starts making small pleased but protesting sounds in between Myka's harsh and demanding kisses.

Myka stops as abruptly as she started and pulls away from Helena, "Still think that love is enough?" Myka is breathing hard and her heart is hammering in my chest from the sheer insanity of this moment. "Or do you need more proof?"

"Myka, if you want to punish me go ahead." Helena doesn't move or flinch. "I won't stop you."

Myka never envisioned their first kiss or anything really for the simple reason that it was never going to happen in her mind. She's ruined that now but for good reason. Myka feels as though she has been reduced to bare bones when she came to understand the extent of how little she'd been made to feel by the person she loves most. Helena seems as equally broken though so maybe they're even now.

Myka faintly grins and gently holds Helena's face between her hands, "I don't want to punish you, Helena. I...I don't really know what I want anymore. So why don't you tell me what you want from me again instead?"

Helena eyelids flutter briefly and Myka hears her breath shudder past her parted lips, "I want you, Myka. I want this pain to go away. I want to feel your body against mine. But with all my heart I want you to look at me the way you used to."

Fresh tears run down Myka's cheeks, "Loving you has been so lonely. And I just can't let all that happen now, no matter how easy my body says it would be. My heart and my head is another matter altogether."

Helena's disappointment is palatable. A part of Myka is angry with her for thinking that she would just fall into her arms. Maybe once upon a time Myka would have but not now. Myka won't turn her away though. Not when Helena's finally doing something half-way right; finally coming back for her, coming back to where she truly belongs.

Myka trails her fingertips along Helena's cheekbones, "But I don't want you to leave me again."

Helena smiles wanly and moves her hands to grasp Myka's wrists, "I promise to never leave again Myka and if I do I will want you with me."

It will take a lot more for Myka than a few right words. But she's always going to give Helena another chance as long as she's above ground, "I'll hold you to that promise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The 2014 Soundtrack: "Plug In Baby" by Muse, "The Pieces Don't Fit Anymore" by James Morrison, "Something I Can Never Have" by Nine Inch Nails & "In Love And Lonely" by HIM
> 
> The 2021 Re-write Soundtrack: "State Of Love And Trust" by Pearl Jam & "Dressed In Black" by Sia


	9. (~Epilogue: Lightside Of The Moon~)

**[Helena]**

* * *

_**My Home (Univille, South Dakota) 2015...** _

I haven't had the spare time to write as I had been. My life is vastly different. Again. Surprisingly, I missed the gentle, protected purge this outlet provides and in my absence a new year has passed undocumented until now. The last three months have been emotionally taxing and I find that patience is a virtue that I have realized I'm in short supply as of late. Perhaps, I expended all the patience I possessed during my time in bronze. The fact is I'm anxious for my life to finally begin with Myka. I've kept in contact with Dr. Mason or rather Oliver as he prefers I address him as such now. As a friend he reminded me of all the ways I've hurt Myka and to not expect too much from her all at once. I freely admit the romantic in me wanted that unconditional forgiveness yet again from her.

If I'm to be blunt, within the safety of these pages, I would be remiss if I didn't admit that I had expected for her to just forget all my past transgressions. For us too start anew, to leave the sadness behind. But this is real life and our great love has not played out in that fashion. I did move to Univille. I'm not a Warehouse Agent anymore but a Regent. As a part of our agreement Myka does visit with me but have not shared a bed. How I wish we did. But in the small home provided to me once I accepted my post, Myka opted for staying at Leena's. I would be outright lying if I were to say such a thing didn't wound. But I have inflicted wounds much deeper and now it's time to pay the piper.

Occasionally, Myka and I spend our mornings together, talking, but not like before. I worry that I will never completely forgive myself for my madness that Myka bore the brunt of. Nonetheless, I'm relieved for any kind of gentle conversation because I fear for the day when there is only a tenuous silence between us. Gradually some of the warmth is coming back from her but I still see a sadness in those forever expressive green eyes. Myka has assured me though that it has very little to do on my part. Finally, one such morning, just the other day, she confided in me that finding her way again has been hard after her illness and the events that transpired before, during and after her recovery. Myka elected to no longer be a Field Agent for the meantime; she is instead essentially stepping into Artie's shoes, trying them on as it were. Artie appreciates the help no matter how gruffly he protests.

Things are vastly different. Change is inevitable. However, I am not a person that embraces a change that is unwelcome. So much is out of my control but that doesn't render immediate acceptance. Recently, the only change I wish for is that Myka will not longer feel the need to protect her heart so fiercely from me. Though I would be lying if I said that I feel I deserve no less. But I have also turned over a new leaf as it were. In another alternate timeline, I've effectively vaporized myself to bits to get back in the Regents good graces. I hope Myka doesn't require something so drastic. Warehouse Thirteen is back in the swing of things for the for now. Things could change at any moment though in this life when it's spent in a clandestine family; who are expected to pull up roots at an given moment. I still have yet to name my preferred post. But at least my fellow Regents have chosen to let the Warehouse remain in America for another hundred years.

I wonder if Myka will move with me if it should come to that? I was rather surprised when she said yes, but I had hoped for no less than that when I asked. I am thoroughly serious on my commitment to the idea of an 'us'. And yet I need not be a therapist to know that she is still holding back from me out of residual fear, and in keeping with my inherent selfish nature I very desperately want more from our strained relationship even in these trying times. I won't push her though. I remember all too well how she reacted when I confessed myself and then had the audacity to demand more, as if I were entitled.

I acted rashly and I don not think if I were to use the excuse: 'of having felt too much time has been wasted' would even be credible? She still offers me affections though. Be it a simple hug or a chaste kiss upon my cheek but within my heart of hearts it feels like she is making herself perform those things. I know without any qualms that she still harbors a deep love for me, but I really did a number on her and I have to remind myself daily that miracles don't happen overnight. Though they do present themselves to those who become worthy. So here I am proving my worth to the only person who means every thing to me in this new time. Perhaps, if I'm very fortunate, I can create my own private modern utopia.

* * *

"Helena?"

Myka's melodious voice makes Helena smile. As Myka's footfalls approach Helena's small study her smiles only grows. Helena will happily take any and all visits Myka deems fit. Helena replaces the cap on her fountain pen and closes the cover on her brown leather journal. The physical reminder of her sessions with Oliver that has nearly been filled with nonfiction. Helena's real life, with all of it's complexities that followed her into this century. Helena glances up and smiles at Myka who moves to leans against the doorframe and then crosses her arms over her chest.

Myka smiles in return, "What are you writing?"

Helena places her pen into the cupholder on her desk, "Just a bit of homework darling. Only now my former teacher is not privy to its contents."

Helena eyes linger on Myka as she smiles shyly. Helena swivels around in her ever so comfy chair to face Myka directly. Helena is somewhat disappointed that she's not gotten a proper laugh out of Myka as of yet. Helena will take the simple smiles nonetheless. Helena thinks that Myka looks charming, dressed in simple black form-fitting jeans and a lovely dark pink button up that looks like it was tailored to hug her frame in all the right areas. Helena has not been discrete in her lingering glances nor does she intend to be for the foreseeable future. Unless Myka were to say that such attentions are not welcome.

Myka smiles again, "It's great that you're still working on yourself." Myka bites down on her lower lip and for a moment Helena wishes that she could be the one doing that. "Or perhaps the writing bug has bitten the great, and unsung in her time, H.G. Wells and she just won't admit it?"

Helena smirks, she will also relish in any minor flirtations Myka attempts, "Great? You flatter me, darling. But I've always been a work in progress." Helena is pleased to see some color gradually highlighting Myka's cheekbones. "And I feel it would be truly sad if humans didn't continue to evolve. Learning something new every day, even if it’s only limited to self-knowledge and personal growth."

Myka shakes her head and chuckles. Helena's heart warms in her chest at the sound, "Wow, H.G. Wells the father of science fiction turned motivational speaker?"

Helena laughs because Myka has a charm of her own that she is highly susceptible to, "Oh shut it you."

The lightness of the moment propels Helena from her seat to approach Myka, "So, to what do I owe this surprise visit? Not that it isn't wonderful to see you." Helena doesn't mean to sound so seductive but it has been a few too many days since she saw Myka in person. Therefore she can hardly be blamed. "But please tell me that this auspicious call is not Warehouse-related? Lie to me if you must, darling."

Myka chuckles and her blush deepens which please Helena to no end, "So I'm free this evening and I was wondering if you would have dinner with me?" Myka uncrosses her arms from her chest and starts fidgeting. "We don't have to go out or anything. I thought that we could have dinner here?"

Helena smiles while she reaches for Myka's fidgeting hands; stilling them in her own, "I am always available for you because that sounds too lovely an offer not to partake in."

Myka visibly relaxes and then laces her fingers with Helena's, "You are such a charmer and a serial flirt. I see I'm going to have to keep a close eye on you tonight."

For an instant Helena considers not pushing her luck. But then Helena thinks what harm can it do to turn on her charm a touch more. After all, Myka is openly flirting with her more than she has in a very long time, "Please do, Myka." Helena smirks and leans towards Myka a little more as though she intends to steal a kiss. "In fact I implore you to freely to keep an eye on me or anything else you may desire to place upon my person."

Helena has to refrain from laughing at the sight of Myka blushing even more lest Myka get the wrong idea that Helena is playing a game. The only thing Helena is doing is courting Myka properly with the sole intention of convincing her beloved savior that she is worth the risk this time. Helena quickly leans in places a kiss on the corner of Myka's mouth which feels like the greatest small victory. Helena has come to appreciate the fact that a good portion of the best elements of her life are less than grandiose by others standards. After service to the Warehouse in two different centuries Helena's more than appreciative of small moments like these.

* * *

Helena complimented Myka not only on her cooking skills but her devious planning. As it turned out Myka had arrived at Helena's home with select groceries for a dinner Helena hadn't agreed to as yet. Myka's cooking skills far exceed Helena's, which Myka certainly didn't have to acquire from a cooking class, but her mother along with her natural curiosity to experiment with recipes. Helena deemed it a culinary success after being treated to the most delectable lemon garlic tilapia teamed with a mushroom risotto, topped with asiago cheese shavings and a side of sliced zucchini, yellow peppers and broccoli flowerets all steamed to perfection. Helena savored every morsel along with the company. Helena is almost loathe to disrupt the pleasant atmosphere with pointed conversation. But Oliver's last piece of sage advice to her when they spoke last on the telephone was to open a dialogue with Myka, and no matter how brutal it may seem to get, to stay the course. The only way out is through.

Helena's places her goblet of wine on the table that she's been nursing as Myka remerges from the kitchen with dessert in hand. For moment Helena entertains the notion of simply asking if Myka has any interest in being dessert, "Are you certain you don't require any assistance?"

Myka shakes her head and sets down a plate that has a sinfully delicious-looking cheesecake with proper blueberry topping, "As I said before Wells...I can manage."

Helena grins because she expected nothing less from Myka, "You've spoiled me tonight, darling. But should I be concerned that you're trying to fatten me up?" Myka laughs lightly and once again Helena feels like she should let sleeping dogs lie. But then there is the irrepressible truth that fortune favors the bold. "I hope you won't think ill of me for what I'm about to say, but I feel as though we need to address what remains as an ongoing issue between us."

Myka visibly flinches but nonetheless sits back down directly across from me at the small dining room table, "I know but we have talked. I don't think we need to keep dredging up the past?"

Helena nods at the observation and while true some things have been tip-toed around too much for Helena's liking, if they are to effectively put the past behind them, "Yes, but you continue to hold me at arm’s length. And I was just wondering what more must I do to atone, to make myself desirable to you as I once was?"

Helena would be the first person to proclaim that for once her words are clumsy. Myka is silent and then with a quiet sigh she merely pushes away from the table and then stands up from her seat, "You don't have to do anything more, Helena. I needed time and these last few months have been nice...I can't forget so easily, but I've already forgiven you." Helena feels one part relief and one part shame that she has put Myka in such a place to begin with. But then perhaps that is how it's always meant to be for them and how they came to be in one another's life. "You know, I kept a journal too. It was how I was able to forgive you because this time it wasn't easy. Not that any other time was any easier. I wonder sometimes if I'd really helped you, instead of admiring from afar, if some things would've happened differently?"

Helena's heart aches and her eyes begin to sting with tears. Myka is absolutely wonderful. Helena feels it's an absolute flaw of her's of how thoughtless, selfish and callus she can be. She was too proud to ask for help in her own time and her revenge was the thoughts that kept her going when she was bronzed. At no time after she was freed did Helena consider not going through with her plans. Save for one moment though. The instance in question was when Myka and Pete were breaking the bad news to that poor woman that her son was dead. Helena could barely stand to listen to the woman's tearful voice but more to the point it was Myka's gaze that tore thorugh her with precision. Helena had to leave the room lest she give up the game, her game, before seeing to the end. Helena's sighs, perhaps there is no atoning for her sins since it would appear that after one hundred and forty nine years she is who she is.

"Helena?" Myka's gentle voice stirs Helena out of her mournful musing and she looks up to meet the most luminous set of green eyes. Myka smiles briefly and then runs a hand through her hair. "This still hardly seems real to me; you wanting me. But I'm accepting it with each day and night that passes because I never was able to stop loving you. No matter how hard I tried."

Helena's breath catches; such words are enough to do so. But the admission of a love that has endured despite the hardships between is nearly enough to reduce Helena to tears. She does not wish to cry over a forgotten dessert of a dinner that she has railroaded into emotional upheaval. But then Oliver said this would not be for the faint of hearts and not once has Helena failed to acknowledge that it's all her own doing. There is no one else to blame but herself.

Helena stands from her seat, "Will you stay here tonight? I expect nothing but to simply be close to you."

* * *

Helena notes that her bedroom is painted in the full moons glow; its silvery-shimmering light streams in from the windows. But despite the coolness the room feels charged by the lunar light. Helena feels like a spell has been cast or perhaps she reasons that this is what it feels like when your most desperate prayer is about to be answered. In the past, Helena has spent a good deal of time watching the moon pass through its phases on clear nights, as her own life waxed and waned over the decades before she was bronzed.

Sometimes, Helena imagined that traveling to the heavens would bring humanity a clearer view of the world and in the vastness of space mankind would truly see how small they are in the grand scheme of things. And yet those notions seem to lack the gravity of her current situation; it’s been over a hundred years since she touched another woman. Still Helena was no less than thrilled when Myka agreed to spend the night with her. Myka seems just as nervous to me which makes Helena feel like she has asked for too much.

Myka timidly steps over the threshold of Helena's bedroom, "Maybe, I shouldn't stay all night." Myka sounds as sincere as she is obviously hesitant. "I'll stay for a while. I really...miss you."

Helena smiles and how could she not when faced with this enchanting creature from the future that she wouldn't have met had she not walked into the bronzer. Helena is selfish though. If she could in fact have her cake and eat it too, Helena would have Christina back in her life with Myka beside her for life. In a perfect world it would be the three of them against the imperfect world.

"Tonight was wonderful and just I think anything more," Myka interjects whilst biting on her lower lip which Helena finds charming and highly distracting. "Even something as innocent as lying with you...I think that’s pushing it."

Helena smiles and silently agrees with Myka. As Helena sits down on the bed and then starts pulling off her boots , she listens to Myka's movements about the room before feeling the bed dip on the other side. Helena moves to lie down as Myka does the same. The illumination from the moon is so bright that even when Myka turns off the lamp by the bed, Helena can still see her plainly as if the bedroom were fully lit solely by artificial means. Myka seems to relax with every passing second, whereas Helena's heart elevates its pace with every breath. Helena closes her eyes and tries to calm herself but then her eyes spring open as she feels Myka's warmth pressing closely along her side. Then in the next moment Helena feels Myka's arm drape along her waist. Helena nearly stops breathing for a heartbeat or two.

Myka chuckles lowly, "Relax Helena, I don't bite." Helena smirks at Myka's teasing while Myka surprises her by squeezing her arm around Helena's waist tighter. "But I do nibble a little bit."

Helena grins but then to her shock Myka starts nuzzling into her hair. Helena swallows and tries to suppress how her body is starting to respond to Myka's attentions, "Darling, I know times have changed. But based on what you're doing one could say you're making a pass at me."

Myka chuckles again and Helena shiver at the sensation of her heated breath tickling along the skin of her neck, "You would be correct and besides a little flirting never hurt anyone. You seem to enjoy doing it."

Helena laughs and hesitantly puts her arms around Myka; returning the embrace she is freely giving her, "I admit darling that I flirted quite a lot in my past life and enjoyed every moment of it. Not so much in this new life." Helena thinks back on her flirtation with Nate and how he was the one to start, clumsy though he was. Helena knew damn well he was only taking that cooking class to meet women since she was partially there for that reason herself. "And even then it was only with you and like all those lifetimes ago I enjoyed it, but this time around even more so."

Myka hums and then after a moment Helena feels her smile against her neck, "This is nice."

Helena smiles as she contemplates about how easy it would be to turn her head and truly kiss Myka with all the passion in her body. Myka shifts closer and Helena feels her breasts press against her side. Helena closes her eyes and commit the sensation to memory. Helena's heart feels as though its on the verge of bursting from her chest when she feels a light wisp of a touch passing along her eyebrows. Helena opens her eyes to gaze at the feast of all her senses, Myka.

"Helena?" Myka's lovely voice is soft yet throaty in quality and Helena suppresses a shiver from it. "I want to kiss you."

Helena's eyes flutter close at the sensation of an highly abrupt war that is raging within her. Myka is not helping; in the sense that she is testing Helena's restraint. Though upon opening her eyes Helena is impressed with her level of less than noble fortitude in the face of such endless temptation. More than that actually, Myka is Helena's heart's desire and here they are despite Helena's leanings towards self-destruction.

Helena gazes into enchanting green eyes that never cease to bewitch her, "Are you certain?"

Myka bites down on her lower lip, "Yes."

Helena stalls though instead of capitalizing on the blatant invitation. It's not as though she has misplaced Myka's earlier words upon entering the bedroom. This is a dramatic change, a shift, in the holding pattern that their complicated relationship has been as of late.

Myka sighs and then leans in closer to Helena, "I lied earlier to a degree. I still get mad as hell at you sometimes." Helena has the urge to laugh at the softly spoken words. She has always appreciated Myka's honesty and now is no exception. "But I love you. I've always wanted you. And that hasn't changed no matter my state of mind or how many times I tried to will my feelings for you away."

Helena has no clue what that one good thing she did in her life that made her even marginally deserving of such a rare person. Though any rebuttal Helena was considering voicing are silenced by Myka pressing her lips against Helena's. It's an all consuming kiss and Helena gets lost in it's desperation and outright longing at a rate that she should be frightened. Instead, Helena feels an ache bloom in her that will need to be addressed sooner rather than later. Helena's hands wander over Myka's shirt, in an effort to pull her closer, and then in the next instance Helena grazes her hands over Myka's breasts. Helena groans into the kiss at the feeling of them in her hands and Myka answers in a similar sound that Helena drinks in like the rest of their kiss.

The outside world has slipped away for Helena and she intends to show Myka such a feeling exists until Myka pushes her away. Helena reluctantly moves her hands off Myka's breasts and blindly brushes them over her neck and then entangles her hands in Myka's long, soft curly hair. Helena has quite a fondness for those charming curls. In fact, when she glimpsed Myka with straightened hair a protest rose up to question why she would do such a thing. But that is neither here nor there. Not when Myka is doing the most skillful thing with her tongue inside of Helena's mouth. Helena sucks on Myka's tongue and it causes her to emit the most delicious moan into their kiss but more than that it also compels Myka to pull Helena tighter against her body. Helena gasps while entertaining the notion that Myka truly means for them to become one this night.

It's that realization that cause Helena to break the kiss. Helena moves her hands out of Myka's hair to reverently graze her fingers along the soft skin of Myka's reddened cheeks, "You know I will happily wait for you. As you have waited for me."

Myka smiles and pulls back slightly and in the absence of her warmth Helena moves to follow but refrains, "I did wait for you." Myka pauses and then nervously looks down at the scant space she put between their bodies. "But then I met someone unexpectedly and it was...okay. It didn't last. I didn't want it to though."

This is a topic Helena has not dared to approach and frankly she hasn't wanted to even though she has no right to feel slighted. Helena grins in spite of the emotion known as jealously rearing it's ugly head at the thought of Myka with another, "Who was he or she?"

Myka laughs lightly, "His name was Mike. I met him during a rather interesting artifact hunt that left me very pregnant for longer than I cared to be."

Helena's eyes widen in shock at Myka suddenly falling pregnant by an artifact. For an instance, Helena wonders if part of Myka's reluctance is not only due to their past but that she also now has a child to consider. Helena feels a slight rush of anger at the prospect, "So you were pregnant and also had a companion for a spell. I take it the pregnancy was nulled when the artifact was found since I haven't seen a miniature Bering running around?"

Myka laughs and the last vestiges of unease tinged with anger unwinds within Helena, "That would be correct, and by the way me being pregnant was completely Pete's fault not Mike's." Myka's voice is playful and Helena looks into those green eyes that are shining with mirth. But then Myka shifts on the bed and some of her weight leaves Helena's side. "As for Mike, it was just a few kisses and then I ended it. Not a whole lot to talk about except for the fact that I kissed him at a hockey game for all to see."

Once again a part of Helena cringes at the thought of another touching Myka, that they have been granted access to such affections. Helena has no one to blame but herself for these unfortunate revelations. Helena, too sought comfort in another’s arms but it wasn't all that fulfilling. On reflection what she's feeling with Myka pales in comparison. Sex with Nate was rather remedial, routine and quite unsatisfying. Helena thinks now that some of the madness still had a hold on her for her to fall victim to such banality.

"Hey, where did you go on me just then?"

Helena smiles and reaches for Myka's hand and then intertwines their fingers, "Honestly, I was thinking of how we both chose the wrong people for all the wrong reasons." Myka gives Helena a small smile and leans in closer to me, and with their faces so close together Helena feels that the strength to pull away is nearing the point of no return, for the both of them. "I never loved Nate and he never was able to make me feel anything." Helena's eyes flicker down to Myka's lips which are that much fuller from their heated kiss. "You on the other hand make me feel everything and you've yet to touch me."

Myka's eyes close and her breathing elevates and it's utterly hypnotic to Helena to know she's the reason for it. Helena is fairing no better; she has never so effected by a lover. Not for the first or likely the last Helena thinks that if she were the sort ot entertain flighty notion that Fate itself predetermined that she was to meet Myka Bering.

Myka smiles and the sight of it warms Helena further, "I've always loved your accent. The way you speak." Myka sounds utterly breathless to Helena's ears. "It makes me so hot...for you." Helena shudders in return at the equally pleasing tone of Myka's timbre. "I'm a little embarrassed about it. But it's nothing new. And now that I've kissed you...being this close to you." Myka licks her lips and Helena has to restrain herself at the sight. "I don't think I can just sleep with you anymore, Helena."

With that lustful declaration Myka closes the small distance and kisses Helena with a fervor that asks while hints at demanding for all that they can share. There is so much longing, desperation; Helena didn't know those things could have a taste. Myka's full lips fit against Helena's perfectly and then when Helena did not think she could ache more, she feels Myka straddling her thighs and settling herself on Helena's lap.

Myka breaks their kiss this time but only to smile as she winds her arms around Helena's neck, "You are the most exquisite woman I have ever seen. I've thought that from the very first moment I saw you. It was more shocking than Artie telling me that the HG Wells was actually a woman. I hate that Pete kissed you." Helena's breath stills in my lungs and she has the sudden urge to apologize for kissing Pete. It's her fault after all. But then Myka grinds her hips against Helena's lap. Just one small thrust. "I've rarely noticed or even wanted another woman in a sexual way." Myka's voice is low and full of lust and promises that will not be walked back. "I don't want you to hold anything back from me or push me away again. I can't bear it."

Helena closes her eyes and tries to recall how to speak, to form words, to complete a voiced thought, but Helena's vocabulary seems to have been swiftly rendered obsolete. Then Myka's lips once more take possession of Helena's; at first it’s no more than a faint graze of her lips touching Helena's lower lip, but then Helena feels Myka's tongue run the length of her lip. The contact doesn't linger long enough for Helena's taste but it then disappears completely, along with Myka's weight resting on her lap. Helena's eyes spring open and she leans up on her elbows to see where Myka has gone. A rush of disappointment washes over Helena that Myka has changed her mind despite her passionate words.

But Myka has not gone far; she is standing at the foot of the bed and from the looks of her Helena thinks that she has become prey. In a quick move Myka reaches for Helena's thighs and forcefully pulls her down towards the foot of the bed until her legs are hanging over the edge. Helena helpless gasps as her arousal ticks up to level that she has no experienced in her short yet undeniably long life. She is not ignorant of Myka's physical strength. During their case at that college in California, Helena was gobsmacked at how Myka clotheslined that idiotic scientist, Gerald, who foolishly tried to run from them. Helena's opinion of Myka Bering began to change that day despite her nefarious motives that Myka thwarted when all was said and done.

Helena visibly swallows, "It would appear that your cheeky quip from years ago has bore fruit."

Myka's lips quirk up to form a lop-sided smirk, "You mean the 'agent under me' thing, right."

Helena lets loose a long breath and grins, "Precisely, darling."

Myka laughs, "I wasn't thinking about something like this. I didn't even realize the double entendre until the sentence was half-way out of my mouth." Myka runs a hand through her hair which is looking thoroughly disheveled. "By then I was just trying to keep a straight face and not blush."

Any more words Helena might have added to their reminiscing on the past are stolen away again when Myka straddles her hips again and then gathers Helena up in arms. It’s a brief pause, a respite, Myka's eyes seeking Helena's and then the world goes dark as Helena's eyes close at the sensation of Myka's lips upon them. Once more it's a hungry, seeking and insatiable kiss. Helena is so distracted that she only vaguely registers that her vest is being unbuttoned; thankfully it only has two, then through heated kisses the vest is being pushed off Helena's shoulders in a manner indicating it was committing a great offense by remaining on her body. Small protests are made against Helena's lips when Myka tears open the other woman's shirt. The sound of buttons cascading onto the floor and God knows where, makes Helena so very ready and painfully aroused. Helena has not felt this before, not even a century ago, there is nothing she can liken it to.

Myka abruptly stops again, her mouth hovering over Helena's, their labored breath mingling, "This is the only time I know I'll be able to stop. So tell me now if this is not what you want tonight, Helena."

Helena opens her eyes while exhaling a shaky breath, "This is rather surprising." Helena smirks but it's quickly wiped off her face due to the sensation of Myka's hands ghosting over her bra and thus her breasts. "I still want you even this way. If this is how you need our first time to be. I will still be here when it’s done. There is nothing you can do in the name of passion that will make me think less of you."

Myka smiles warmly, "I've never wanted anyone as much as I want you. I'm surprising myself."

Helena reaches up and pulls Myka down into a kiss. This time it's Helena's tongue tasting Myka's mouth while other parts of her dampen further with need. Helena thinks that though there will be no gentleness in their first encounter, it will not be lessened by it, for Helena feels so much longing and intensity from the both of them that it's clear to her now it could be no other way. Helena frantically start undoing the buttons on Myka's lovely pink shirt as fast as can be managed and her underthings, Helena feels Myka doing the same in return. Next is the utter elation of Helena feeling Myka's bare skin under her fingertips for the first time is beyond metaphor. Helena moans into their kiss because of it. Helena has never been this vocal with a lover either. At least there are no others in the house and thin walls to contend with.

Myka's hands on Helena's breasts become insistent, but then all to quickly her pleasant touch upon them is abandoned and Helena's neck is being pulled to the side as Myka's mouth moves down over Helena's jawline to taste the new territory laid bare before her wanting mouth. Helena has but a moment to think it's too much when she becomes aware of aware of Myka grinding her hips into her lap again, which forces a needy declaration of Myka's name to pass through Helena's lips. Helena's hips begin to counter Myka's actions; Helena grins to the kiss at the fact that she couldn't keep them still now even if she wanted to. It’s been a while and Helena feels like she's going to spend with her trousers still on. That thought is dashed from Helena's mind at the sound of her zipper being undone and then she feels Myka's hand pushing into her underthings.

Myka breaks their kiss with a moan, "So ready for me."

Myka moves her fingers just over Helena's now overly sensitive area and that's all it takes for Helena to be overcome. A familiar and potent warmth races from her center to spread all over. Helena says Myka's name as the remnants of her climax begins to recede. Helena rests her forehead against Myka's shoulder, "I'm sorry...I didn't mean to...spend so quickly."

Myka laughs and the sound makes Helena smile, "I'm not and besides, we're just getting started."

Helena smirks more because no truer words have been spoken. Helena feels her second wind returning at the thought of taking the brunt of Myka's incredible passion again and then in turn showing her Helena's own unbidden desires. Helena takes the opportunity, in this temporary calm, to quickly pull down the zipper on Myka's trousers and slip her hand inside. Myka gasps Helena's name so deliciously as Helena's fingers find her warm wetness that their touching has brought about. Helena moans at the discovery coating her fingertips. Helena turns her head and starts to place kisses along Myka's neck while her fingers begin to explore Myka's treasure.

Myka's hips start to move in that primal rhythm, "Helena...I want you." Myka moan out a sob when Helena's fingers graze over her entrace. "I need you."

Myka's breathy plea is an aphrodisiac and with hesitation Helena covers Myka's mouth with her own while she slides two fingers inside Myka's drenched center. Myka's body jerks into the intrusion in an action that screams needful, but Helena pauses to let Myka adjust and so she can simply enjoy being inside of her for the first time. Helena moans against Myka's lips as she begins to move them inside of Myka. As their rhythm syncs, Myka begins riding Helena's fingers with abandon; her weeping center pulling Helena's fingers in deeper with each movement. Myka throws her head back and then those breasts of her's are before Helena; an offering, so Helena take one hardened nipple into her mouth to pay it tribute. Myka declares Helena's name loudly and pushes her chest forward into the attentions. Helena will never relent or leave Myka unsatisfied. the wet, clicking sound of their coupling grows louder and then Helena feels Myka's depths begin to tremble and squeeze her fingers with each thrust. Helena turns her hand slightly and then press upwards so her palm covers and caresses Myka's pearl.

"Oh..." Myka leans forward and grasps Helena's head. Helena sucks harder on Myka's nipple. "Oh God...Helena! Don't stop...just stay...inside!"

Helena cannot help but smile as she moves her mouth off Myka's nipple, letting tongue graze across her chest to the other breast, which requires Helena's attention. Helena runs her tongue along Myka's nipple in a teasing fashion before covering and pulling it into her mouth. Myka shouts Helena's name again while her center clamps down on Helena's fingers in an attempt to hold her inside. The action also forces Helena to spend once more, brought on by this heightened moment locked in a fervent embrace with her one.

Gradually, Myka's hands lose some of their hold on Helena's head but they don't slip away. Myka's body shudders against Helena's one last time, but Helena lingers inside for more than a few heartbeats before withdrawing from Myka. Slowly, Helena removes her hand out of Myka's trousers and then brings her fingers up to her mouth while Myka watches. A small moan slips from Helena as she samples the delicacy of Myka's taste that she wrought from her. As soon as the taste hits Helena's pallette, she knows in no uncertain terms she will need that flavor again and again, for as long as time allows it.

* * *

Helena thinks that even though this began rather heatedly, the patience and care that has followed was equally as overwhelming. Finally being consumed by Myka's passion; something Helena had begun to fear had diminished by cavalier actions. Instead, Helena found that her current reality surpasses and bears no resemblance to even the most elaborate fantasy, even by any fiction writer standards. In point of fact no one has ever touched Helena like Myka has; not in this life or Helena's previous lovers more than a hundred years ago. Myka's touch is beyond the trappings of the flesh; Helena feels that it touches something deeper than that. All those casual encounters Helena indulged in to stifle her grief so very long ago are poor contrasts. Helena will not try to compare them to Myka because she has no equivalent.

The calculated movements of Myka's smooth lips flutter and graze over Helena's trembling stomach. Each kiss Myka bestows descending lower on her body which in turn makes Helena's breath catch in anticipation for the next. Helena dares to look down to see those beautiful brown curls charmingly draped over her torso, while feeling soft, insistent fingers on the waistband of her underthings. Helena's eyes flutter closed and she breathes out Myka's name as she gradually lowers Helena's undoubtedly ruined undergarments down her thighs. Helena's hips jerk as Myka passes her knees while kissing the bared flesh on Helena's hips. Then a sound unlike anything thing Helena's ever made emerges from her when Myka's warm, wet lips begin to roam. Helena's heart is already beating furiously but then the feeling of Myka's mouth on her it stops and then finds a new rhythm. Helena gasps out a stilted moan.

Helena's legs are beginning to tremble from the effect of Myka's tongue moving around her wet and aching center. Helena is on the cusp and then without the slightest hesitation she feels Myka push her tongue inside. Helena's back arches and a loud, almost embarrassing moan spills out. Helena's hands move up to her breasts and she caresses and fondles them as Myka thoroughly explores with her mouth. Helena gasps again at the sensation of Myka's tongue moving out of her while her body seems to reach for it, to welcome it back to her wanting hearth. Myka moans against Helena's flesh as her tongue strokes up, so deliciously slow, and Helena has no option but to stop her ministrations on her breasts to grip the bedcovers beneath.

The paltry cloth anchor being held prisoner in Helena's grasp does very little to hold her to her body as Myka sensually tastes and explores Helena's pearl with her tongue and lips. Helena's body is racing to the brink but just as quickly as she feels that she's about to spend Myka moves her talented mouth. Helena instantly feels like protesting. However, before she can utter a complaint or request that Myka continue, Helena opens her eyes to see Myka looking down at me. Myka's hand is resting low on Helena's stomach and right then Helena knows what she is silently asking of her. Myka has yet to be inside her. Helena loosens her hold on the bedcover and then places a hand on Myka's resting on her stomach. Helena breath comes faster as she starts urging Myka's hand to move lower. Helena cannot bring herself to look away from Myka's darkened gaze as her hand is finally covers Helena's center.

"Myka...it’s been a spell since someone has been inside me."

Myka smiles as her fingers trail through Helena's arousal, "I won't hurt you." Myka leans down and places a brief but deep kiss on Helena's lips. Helena moans at the taste of herself on Myka's lips. Myka pulls back and smiles again. "I could never do that."

Myka moves to kiss Helena again; her lips moving against Helena's in their very own soft dance. With one last tug on Helena's bottom lip Myka begins to trail kisses along her jawline. Helena inhales sharply while her hands find a home in those long, soft, curls of Myka's and with a gentle nudge Helena directs her lower. Full lips run along the hollow of Helena's throat, slowly trailing wetly along her collarbone. Myka's name slips from Helena's mouth in a desperate moan. Every part of Helena is completely yearning and rapacious for Myka's touch. Helena is scarcely prepared for the sensation of Myka sliding a finger inside where to begin quelling her ache. Helena moves her hands out of Myka's hair to clutch at her shoulders from the welcome intrusion but it's due to the sheer voracity of knowing it's Myka touching her this way.

Myka waits while Helena's body accepts her. Helena's back arches slightly and she watches as Myka uses her free hand to support her weight while she begins a slow rhythm. Helena knows that despite her abundant wetness she's also taut with need because Helena's feels the effort in each shallow movement. Helena closes her eyes and attempts to relax her body even more for Myka and gradually it does begins to receive more of her. Helena moans at the feeling of her adding another finger and in a few labored heartbeats Helena begins meeting Myka's increasing thrusts with ones of her own. Helena tries to pull Myka down closer to her and sensing the desire, Helena relishes in the feeling of Myka slowly allowing more of her weight to rest upon her. Helena is adrift in this ocean of feeling. The sounds of her desire like the most passionate form of music not instrument can mimic.

A throaty moan slips past Myka's lips, "Helena...please open your eyes."

Helena complies with the humble request and is greeted by the vision of incredible green eyes that are so much darker than when last she looked. Helena's breath catches in her throat as Myka all but ceases her passionate caresses inside. Myka's breasts lie against Helena's which doesn't distract her from the caress of Myka's other hand brushing along her side; moving until Helena feels Myka grasp her thigh and pull it up higher, which makes me that much more open to her. Myka leans down to kiss Helena; her tongue tastes Helena's mouth with purpose, as she begins to create the most intense deep thrusts inside at a more rigorous pace. The moonlit bedroom is filled with uneven breaths, titillating moans and equally wanton sounds of dewy flesh meeting in the most tangible rhythm that new lovers shouldn't possess. With a groan, Helena breathes wanting breaths in between heated, eager kisses. For one moment, Helena fears in the best possible way, that she shall never quench her thirst for Myka.

* * *

Helena summary comes to the conclusion that her current state is akin to waking from a pleasant hallucination. Though she desperately does not wish it to be but a wraith that visited her in repose. Graciously, the welcoming warmth resting beside her confirms her blessed reality and Helena gently turns over to see Myka sleeping beside her, restin on her stomach. Helena smiles while looking at her winsome face relaxed in sleep, at her now long curls haphazardly askew on the pillow and shoulders. Helena's heart pick up its cadence at the sight. Helena thinks that the only element missing from this oasis are those eyes of Myka's that would shame the greenest jade or the clearest emerald. Helena has never been this in love and to think she almost cast this aside; wasted so much time. Helena's vision blurs slightly just as Myka begins to stir from her slumber. Helena reigns in her tears and waits to be greeted by the the sound of Myka's voice.

Myka lifts her head off the pillow and then turns on her side. the sheets shift and the tops of Myka's breasts reveal themselves to an appreciative gaze, "Helena?"

Helena smiles as she discretely wipes her eyes under the guise of sleep to distress her beloved which she could mistake for something else other than pure happiness, "Good morning, darling."

Myka smiles and closes the miniscule distance and kisses Helena but it's all too brief though. Myka moves away and Helena can't help but frown a bit. Myka notices and grins at Helena's pout, "Morning breath, surely they had that in Victorian times too?"

Helena laughs and reaches out to pull Myka closer, "Yes, such a thing occurred and I hadn't a care for it then unless it was positively ghastly. Yours is not, so I don't mind in the slightest."

Myka chuckles and Helena pauses to look into those green depths before leaning in to kiss her good morning properly. Helena's lips want to follow it's match when Myka pulls away. Intuitively, sensing Helena's want for contact Myka leans down to press a kiss to her bare shoulder; just above Helena's heart, before resting her head there as she drapes her arm across my stomach. It's a remarkable experience to Helena having Myka so close, to be able to feel her skin sharing our warmth beneath the covers. To know how her full lips fit just so against hers, to know her hands upon my body, to be made to feel whole for the first time in over a century.

Helena closes her eyes and basks in the glory of that knowledge, as Myka occasionally shifts beside her to further eliminate any remaining space. The sweetest silence lingers between them, except for the sound of their breathing. Behind closed eyelids, Helena reflects on their journey, the adventures, misfortunes, heartache and betrayal that lead them to this moment. The whole of it replays itself in Helena's mind. It was an instant appreciation that quickly morphed into an undeniable attraction, and it was always more than just a pursuit of the flesh, but now that she has this as well as the painful past the picture is complete. Life by default cannot be perfect no matter how much one wishes it to be. Helena will try her absolute best to not live in her past any longer.

Now, Helena smiles while musing on how she awoke earlier this morning; it still feels as if it were a fantasy. But she knows it to be all too real especially considering how alive she feels. Helena's body is absolutely humming like a finely tuned combustion engine. Then feeling a slight poke to her side she turns to chuckle at the perpetrator who smiles at Helena knowingly.

Myka smiles, "Excuse me Ms. Wells, but could I trouble you to turn the omelets before they burn on one side?"

Helena grins and flips the cooking egg over to blanket the green peppers and onions, "Yes, sorry darling."

Helena risks a glance from her assigned task to glimpse Myka flitting about the kitchen while she's tending to the bacon and toast. Myka seems so happy, which in turn reinforces the smile that has been on Helena's face all morning. Refocusing her attention back to omelet duty, Helena places the now fully cooked omelet on the awaiting plate and then focuses on the other one in another pan. The consistency of said egg concoction is almost there, but then Helena feels Myka's presence behind her, and just as I'm about to fold over the omelet Myka's head comes to rest against my shoulder. The action makes Helena smile wider and with her free hand she reaches up to touch. A small satisfied noise escapes Myka at the caress and it's as if what remained of the distance between them was just abolished. Helena feels as though she owes Myka more. All answers to any questions she has yet to ask and the perfect outlet for such springs to Helena's mind.

"Myka, I would like for you to read my journal."

Myka raises her head off Helena's shoulder and Helena quickly places the fully cooked omelet on the other plate alongside the bacon and toast Myka obviously finished while I was lost to my thoughts, "My therapist, Oliver, thought it would be beneficial to purge my feelings and actions on paper and it was." Myka smiles and reaches out to grasp both of my hands in hers. "I held nothing back, except the smallest of details that I couldn't bring myself to write. They are ones you already know, you were there."

Myka squeezes Helena's hands as gesture of warmth and acceptance, "I would love to, Helena." Myka's green eyes shine and she bites her lower lip briefly. "And since we're both being honest and open, I was considering letting you read some of the things I wrote too. But I warn you it’s not much and I did abandon it after my treatments started." Helena's eyes sting with tears at the thought of losing Myka to cancer, but Myka subtly shakes her head and smiles. "But if you're good Wells, I'll let you read my journal anyway."

Helena laughs and in turn it makes Myka laugh which chases away the tears that were building in Helena's eyes. Helena smiles and despite all the hardship and mental anguish she wallowed in for over a century the words she has for Myka are sure and true, "I can be good."

**(~END~)**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The 2014 Soundtrack: "976-Evil" by Deftones, "Waiting" by Smashing Pumpkins, "Do I Wanna Know?" by Arctic Monkeys, "Undisclosed Desires" by Muse & "Fight Fire With Fire" by Scissor Sisters 
> 
> The 2021 Re-write Soundtrack: "A Thousand Bad Times" by Post Malone, "Father Figure" by George Michael & "Beautiful" by VAST
> 
> Updated Final Words: Since this was my first B&W story it's very dear to me. For quite a few years I had been meaning to give it another look, then a glow up, like I had some of my other old stories. Unfortunately, it took me far longer than expected to get around to it, but now this story is truly final. There were times where I cringed during the re-write for various reasons, but mostly at how poorly it read. I tried not to change the story too much but the few things I did alter are for the better in my opinion, and I don't mean the largest part where I removed the first person narrative either. In closing, I sincerely hope this story continues to find readers and in turn that they enjoy it if possible. I doubt it though. -MR-


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